


Christmas With The Jeffersons

by Momma_Time



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Fake Dating, Fluff, I'm just making it a long episode of Cheesy Hallmark Movie Plots and Tropes surrounding, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Rather than doing the christmas calendar prompts separately like I did for halloweeen, Thomas and Alexander fake dating, Thomas trades his dignity and political beliefs to have a fake bf for Christmas, christmas tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma_Time/pseuds/Momma_Time
Summary: The title says it all. Cheesy Christmas tropes from my prompt calendar for a solid Jamilton Fake Dating Au.Alex comes out of this on top. Sort of. -exaggerated wink-Formally Father_Time





	1. Weird Days

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ixhadbadxdays and Father_Time's Christmas Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/244702) by Me, Duh. 



Alex didn't think this day could be any stranger, but oh, was he proven wrong.

Number 1: There's a mysterious Starbucks Christmas cup with his favorite white chocolate raspberry mocha waiting for him on his desk when he gets to work this morning. He'd been suspicious of it at first, but he'd only had two cups of coffee so far this morning, and he really needed a third—9 in the morning, and he thinks that he should have had a minimum of three cups. When he looked on the side of the cup to see what the extra instructions were, he found that it had five extra shots of espresso and they used soy milk rather than the nasty 2%. That convinced him to drink it anyway; consequences be damned because he needed that caffeine fix.

Number 2: Jefferson dropped in shortly after Alex had made the stupid decision to drink the mysterious mocha, and casually asked if he was enjoying it. Only to ruin it by flashing Alex a smirk as he motioned at his lips. "Because you've got a little something there," he'd said. Alex, flustered at being caught in some embarrassing situation (no matter how mild), had hastily wiped at his upper lip with his sleeve without even thinking, only to blush when he realized that he'd just had this suit dry-cleaned and it now had a little froth on it. Jefferson had merely snorted and turned to leave, without ever asking Alex about whatever he'd walked into his office for. Now, Alex wasn't complaining that Jefferson was gone as quickly as he came, but it meant that the man would be coming right back later to accomplish whatever he had to accomplish.

Number 3: He swore he heard Jefferson humming a Christmas tune in the men's’ room. Alex wondered if Jefferson even knew that Alex was there. And sure, Alex had seen Jefferson truly happy and in a good mood that wasn’t faked. But this was different. And Alex may or may not have hidden in his stall, waiting until Jefferson left before he emerged. He would never admit it, but his rival had a nice voice. Alex wondered what it would sound like if the man tried to sing in that twenties-thirties style of crooning for a blues tune. He quickly tamped that thought down and left the bathroom in a hurry after Jefferson left.

Number 4: After lunch, he came back to a small box wrapped with shiny red and green paper, completed with a gold bow on top. There wasn’t a tag and Alex was scared to open it. He was more worried about this mystery present than he was of the coffee earlier. He did what he could to ignore it, setting it on a far corner of his desk to worry about later. Curiosity didn’t allow him to wait long and he quickly snatched the box and neatly unwrapped it. Alex wouldn’t lie; he wasn’t used to getting gifts of any kind. He wasn’t fond of gifts anyway because he thought that he would owe someone after. Or, that they wanted something from him. And even without his unspoken dislike of gifts, he didn’t get many. So, a small part of him was excited about opening it. Upon opening the box, Alex found a pack of hair elastics in bright colors rather than the standard black he used.

He may or may not have laughed in delight and amusement.

Number 5: When he came back out of his tunnel vision on a project some time later, Alex found yet another cup of coffee, complete with a muffin. Alright. Who the hell was doing this and what did they want? He poked his head out of his office door and tried to ask his assistant Peggy about it. When did someone come in? Who was it? She just smirks and shrugged her shoulders. “Not a clue,” she’d said. Liar.

Number 6: When Jefferson eventually came back, it was way past their dinner break; Alex always inadvertently skipped dinner and or lunch because he would get tunnel vision on whatever project he was into—see the previous event for a reminder—and forget to eat. Jefferson brought him a Jimmy John's sub and chips, along with a bottle of water so that he wouldn't "dehydrate," as he put it. Then, he plopped down into one of the other chairs and started eating his own like this was a common occurrence for them like they were friends. After a few minutes of tense silence, while they ate, Jefferson then presented Alex with a chocolate cupcake that he'd picked up down the street, and then he got up and left the office like nothing had happened.

Lafayette walked in as Jefferson was leaving and gave Alex a questioning look when neither Alex nor Jefferson bickered. Silent. Alex's office had been silent the whole time. Well, minus the awkward explanation about Alex starving to death or dehydrating enough for his heart to stop or whatever that mumbled mess was. Lafayette took the seat and started drilling Alex for what all of that was about.

"Laf, have I like, walked into the Twilight Zone because that's the third time I've seen Jefferson today. And I have a feeling he's my third and sixth coffee of the day enabler because I had my favorite Christmas season mocha on my desk when I walked in this morning and then later this evening and no indication as to who put it there. AND when I came back from lunch, there was a Christmas gift with a pack of neon elastics. And now Jefferson just left after bringing me dinner and a cupcake and he even said that he was doing it so that I wouldn’t dehydrate or starve…" And now that Alex was thinking about it, he was pretty damn sure that Jefferson was the one who left everything. Why else would he walk in and specifically ask Alex about his coffee and then walk back out? "Is he buttering me up for something?"

Lafayette shrugged, waving a hand as if to say 'hell if I know.' "He's...Thomas is my friend, and I know more about him than he probably wishes, but I have no explanation for that."

"He and I hate each other, and he's bringing me coffee, lunch, water, a pack of hair elastics, and a cupcake. It's creepin' me out." Alex turned the cupcake this way and that, making sure that there was nothing suspicious about it. “And how in the hell did he know what coffee, sandwiches, and sweets I like?”

"Alexander, he does not hate you. He wouldn't bicker with you if he did; Thomas does NOT fight with people he hates. He'll shut them down and discard them like they are nothing." Alex gave him a disbelieving look, so Lafayette continued. "As for the food and coffee, maybe he asked Peggy?"

"Why would he talk to my assistant?"

"To know what you like to eat," Lafayette said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Just eat your lunch Alex and don't worry about it. I can promise you that he didn't poison any of it."

Alex pointed at the cupcake, "I'm sure Snow White thought the same thing when her step-mother brought her a pretty apple and look where that got her."

His friend rolled his eyes at him, and Alex wondered if it would be possible for them to roll right out of Lafayette's head. "Then I will have everyone in the office kiss you until we find whoever can break the curse."

"If you bring Maddison or Jefferson's lips anywhere near mine then I will string you up by your toes," Alex grumbled.

"Sounds kinky but I think I'll pass; I'm a taken man, and I doubt the missus would be happy about sharing me. I know I'm fantastic and desirable, but she's the only one who has the honor of being kissed by these lips." Alex scrunched up his nose. Lafayette and his fiance were that couple you'd see in the park that is so sickeningly sweet that you want to puke and then go to the dentist to take care of the cavities you just acquired from watching them. On the other hand, they were so happy together that you couldn't resent them for their moony-eyed looks and ridiculous amounts of flirting. Lafayette was a disgusting romantic, Alex would give him that. His fiance was lucky to have someone that's so madly in love with her, and that doted on her as much as Lafayette did. Lafayette would say he was the lucky one, the guy that didn't deserve her only glancing at him.

Yes, sickeningly sweet couple that was beautiful together. Alex wanted that someday, maybe, but he was too busy for anything like that.

"You're both lucky to have each other," Alex told him that often but seeing Lafayette's dreamy expression was something that could brighten anyone's day. They had been together for years, and Lafayette was still smitten with her.

Peggy saved him from Lafayette gushing about his fiance for the next two hours by poking her head in and reminding him that he had a meeting in fifteen minutes so hurry up and get going. Lafayette bid him a quick goodbye as Alex wolfed down the sandwich and chips, choosing to hide the cupcake in his desk drawer for later.

7—Shots Fired: The weird part came in later that evening when Jefferson stopped by with another bottle of water. Alex finally snapped, demanding that Jefferson tells him what he was up to and why the hell was he trying to feed him.

"I needed to ask you a favor, and people are easier to persuade when they've had something to eat." If Alex had paid attention, he'd have noticed how nervous Thomas looked. Thomas had shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back, one hand shoved into his coat pocket and fiddling with something.

But Alex wasn't paying attention to that. He was too focused on the fact that Jefferson was bringing him food as a bribing tool. At this point in the day, Alex was tired, had a headache from staring at his computer without blinking enough for hours on end, and ok yeah, he was thirsty and really wanted that water.

Rather than letting his temper flare into something explosive, Alex managed to contain it into mild annoyance as he rubbed at his temples. "What do you want from me? Don't have to feed me like a doting husband to ask for something...unless it's for me to agree with you on which direction you want to take that project. I refuse. I don't care how much coffee or how many cupcakes you bring me, it's a dumb idea, and I will fight you at every turn over it."

Jefferson dropped into a chair--more like draped himself with enough grace that even slouching with one leg tossed over the arm of the chair looked poised. Sighing dramatically, Jefferson pulled out a small, folded slip of paper, actually, a postcard, and passed it to Alex.

Alex took it, glanced at the writing on one side and then the Christmas themed picture on the back, Thomas Kinkaid if Alex remembered right. "OK, but why are you giving this to me?"

"Just read it, Hamilton." There it was, the slight annoyance in his tone that Alex wanted to hear.

With a put-upon sigh, Alex turned the postcard over again and read it.

_"Tommy,_

_Your sister and I look forward to seeing you for Christmas and hope that you can be there for the entire month. We know Mr. Washington works you to death—_ Alex rolled his eyes at that; Jefferson didn't have a real job _—but could you manage enough vacation time for it?_

_As for the boyfriend you mentioned, he sounds wonderful, and I want to meet him! Please bring him with you; he would be more than welcome to stay with us. It makes me happy to see you so happy again._

_Love,_

_Mom"_

Alex looked back up at Jefferson, still not understanding what he wanted from Alex. "I still don't get what you want outta me."

"I need a boyfriend. My mother keeps trying to set me up with people, and I couldn't get her off my back, and so I lied a little and need you to pretend for me for the month." Jefferson actually avoided Alex's eyes as he said it, taking the postcard back and shifting uncomfortably in the seat after the mumbled admission.

"You want me to do what?" Alex couldn't have heard that right. Alex did NOT just hear Jefferson say he wants Alex to fake being his boyfriend for a month.

Jefferson sat up, only to stand and begin pacing. Okay, maybe he was on edge, Alex decided. Seeing Jefferson this anxious was actually kind of fun. How long could he extend it? "Alexander, you know good and well what I just said so dammit just say yes or no."

"We'll kill each other before the second day," Alex said instead, ignoring Jefferson's use of his first name. No. They didn't do that. They didn't get to call each other by their first names like they were _pals_.

"Then all the better because I really don't want to be stuck at my parent's estate for a month." Alex actually snorted at that. He couldn't quite relate to the feeling, but at the same time, he was sure that he could come up with something that came close.

"What do I get out of it?" Like hell would he do this for free. He had work to do here, and he couldn't miss a month of work for anything.

Even if he was almost three months ahead...

Jefferson stopped pacing and turned to face Alex, although his expression was unreadable. There was silence as the two stared at one another before Jefferson made a vague motion at Alex, "I'll support your stupid financial and fundraising plans for the country and rally others to do the same."

"Guaranteed results?" Alex asked.

"It's me, Hamilton. I get what I want when I want...except with you apparently. Why do you have to be so damn hard-headed?"

"Because someone around here needs to have a thick enough skull to block out the bullshit that comes out of your mouth," he countered with a smirk. Alex thought that he caught a small twitch of Jefferson's lips, almost to a smile but not quite.

"Do we have a deal or not, Hamilton?" Jefferson strode to Alex's desk and rested his hands on the edge, leaning over into Alex's space. The man was already taller than Alex, which was annoying enough on its own, but this was just a petty move to intimidate him. So, the younger man stood, holding out a hand and trying to put off the same aura of over-confidence that Jefferson did.

When Jefferson took it, and they shook, Alex agreed to it.

"Great! I'll let my mother know you're coming. We leave tomorrow morning, first thing, pack enough to last you the month. We come back the 27th." With that, Jefferson left Alex's office with enough swagger for ten men, calling behind him, “I’ll swing by your hovel at 7 am.”

"What the hell did I just sign up for?" Alex mumbled when he was gone, slumping into his chair.


	2. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Meet the parents

“You’re late,” was the first thing out of Alex’s mouth when he opened the door to Jefferson’s incessant knocking.

“Only by twenty minutes.”

Alex stepped back to let Jefferson step in. “Because I was waiting forever, I made more coffee. Would you like me to put some in a to-go cup for you before we go? I don’t want to waste it if I can help it.”

Jefferson didn’t bother hiding his expression as he wrinkled his nose at Alex’s apartment. Alex was immaculate, but he had so many books and binders with past projects that he had run out of space on his book shelves. Because he didn’t have any more room, they wound up in neat little stacks by the bookcases. Otherwise, the place was simple. Alex had a couch, chair, coffee table and entertainment cabinet that had more shelves for books and a PS4, a dining room, a nice kitchen with stainless steel appliances, and so on. Alex wasn’t poor by any means, but he was frugal, and so his home was under decorated aside from the spare bedroom that he had made into an office. He had his degrees, awards, and what not on the walls. There were a few pictures on his desk of him and his friends and one of his mom; the other he kept in his wallet. That’s about it.

Jefferson ignored the question in favor of drilling Alex on the state of his apartment. “Did you just move here or something? There’s nothing here. Where’s the color? The pizazz? The hominess and character of it? Not even family photos? It’s so…bare. It’s kind of sad, actually.”

“I’m rarely ever here, Jefferson, so there’s little point in me decorating it if I’m not going to see it.” Alex didn’t comment on the family photos. He had one picture of his mother before she had Alex, and one picture with just the two of them. There were pictures of him with the Washingtons during the times George or Martha had insisted that he come over or travel with them for the weekend. And then there’s that one picture Washington kept in his office of him, Alex, and Jefferson from that one fishing trip. It was all Alex and Jefferson could do not to ram a fish hook in the other's eyes. The photo was funny, though, with Alex and Jefferson holding up the one fish they each caught, trying to compare sizes behind Washington. Their boss swore he’d never make that mistake again.

“But what about the pictures?”

Alex had started making his way to the kitchen, wanting to get to the coffee and away from that conversation and Jefferson’s judgment. It was too early for that…actually, it was always too early for that. There’s never a right time for Jefferson’s judgmental comments and looks. So he changed the subject. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“What brand is it?” Jefferson dropped the topic for the moment and followed after him, leaning against the doorway, watching Alex bustle around the kitchen. He wondered what Jefferson was thinking of what he was seeing. Alex was always on the run, so it shouldn’t be anything different from usual, but it was a different environment and Alex didn’t have his nose in a book or a presentation or his phone. When he stole a glance at Jefferson, he couldn’t figure out what his expression was. So Alex turned his attention to the coffee he was pouring into tumblers.

“Gevalia and it’s the darkest roast I could get my hands on.”

“So long as it isn’t Folger’s. The stuff they have at work is absolutely disgusting.”

Alex snorted, “Don’t let Washington hear you say that. He’ll kick you out of office. And hey, do you want the one that says, “I’m not awake enough for this shit” or the “there’s a chance this is wine”? cup?”

“The first one sounds more like me.”

“Really? I figured the wine would be your style.”

“No, I’m not a morning person at all.”

He nodded, suppressing a grin at the fact they were even having this conversation. “The tired cup it is.” Alex quickly and finished their coffee and then washed the pot out, dumped the grinds into a small container, and then moved around Jefferson. “Do you need to use the bathroom before we go?”

Jefferson set his cup down on the counter, “Actually, I do.”

“The bathroom is at the end of the hall on the left.” Alex followed after him but turned to his room to grab his bags. A month. A whole month. How on earth does one pack for this? He had one suitcase that held just his puffy coat because of the thickness of the thing. Sweaters had their own bag (Alex had too many of them…). Then everything else was crammed into a duffle bag, including his computer and several books to read if he grew bored.

When he finished collecting the bags, he headed back out for the door, finding Jefferson waiting and holding both of their coffees. “Are you ready princess?”

“I’m not the one who was running late getting here,” Alex shot back.

“Um, excuse you, but it takes time to look this good,” Jefferson smirked as he all but tossed his tight curls back.

“Meanwhile, I just naturally look this good. Sucks to be you, Jefferson.” Grinning, Alex stepped out into the hall and locked up behind them.

“Ha. Ha. Hilarious. Says the man who always looks like a shaggy ghoul after skipping several nights of sleep.” He led Alex outside and set their drinks in the cup holders up front while Alex tossed his bags in the back seat.

“You would be the guy that drives a fancy car that costs at least six figures that hasn’t even been released to the public,” he mumbled. Alex grabbed a dark blue sweater out of one of the bags and tugged it over his head before joining Jefferson.

“Because I know people. What do you drive?” Jefferson ducked into the car and started buckling himself. “What. The hell. Is that?”

“A Corolla which probably gets ten times the gas mileage than yours, and it’s hybrid. I love my little car.” Frowning, Alex followed his line of sight to the sweater he’d just put on. “My favorite sweater.” Self-conscious, he tugged at the sleeves and hugged himself. “It’s my travel sweater, my bad day sweater, and when there’s a stor—never mind. Just—this is my favorite sweater.” He avoided Jefferson’s eyes and was grateful when Jefferson started the car and pulled out of the parking deck.

“It’s…a monstrosity. An insult to fashion.”

“I don’t dress to please you. And hey, at least I don’t look like a squished frog in a tiny overpriced car.” Jefferson was tall and all graceful, long limbs, but here he was crammed into this thing. Alex had finally found what made him look awkward.

“Shut up.”

“Never.”

However, they fell silent after that, Jefferson leaving the city far behind them. Alex didn’t sip his coffee; he chugged it. So he finished his in a few minutes. Jefferson, meanwhile, was a sipper and his coffee lasted him an hour.

Alex didn’t want to read through his new books just yet, knowing he would finish them before he wanted to; they needed to last him the whole trip. And now that he had no choice but to sit still for a few hours, exhaustion quickly caught up with him, and he leaned his seat back to curl up and doze for a while. “Wake me up before I wake up on my own, or we’re there, and I will kill you.”

“No, no, please sleep. I won’t have to worry about you talking my ears off.”  
Alex waved a hand lazily over his shoulder and in Jefferson’s direction. He had hardly said a word since they left…but Alex was too tired to argue.  


~~~~~~  


Thomas was nervous. Any number of things could go wrong while they were in Shadwell. He and Hamilton would be staying at his Monticello rather than Shadwell where his mother and sister lived. His other siblings would be staying at Shadwell, so that lessened the chances of them being called out for not sharing a bedroom or something. They would get a break from each other, and it would be sorely needed by the end of their day.

When he arrived at Hamilton’s apartment, he was both surprised, and not, to find that while Hamilton lived in a nice area of town, it wasn’t anything compared to where Thomas lived. He was even more surprised by the apartment itself when he stepped inside. There was…minus the books everywhere—that he could more than appreciate—there was nothing to the place. There were pieces of furniture, and one pillow where it looked like something Mulligan handstitched the picture on the front, but nothing else. It was…pathetic. Although, after Hamilton had explained it, Thomas decided that there was more to it than what he was saying and didn’t push the issue.

The coffee was good.

The cups were a little weird, but they were Hamilton, in their own way.

He tried not to snoop while he waited on Hamilton, but he found himself pausing at the office door and peeking inside for a brief moment. There were a few pictures of Hamilton’s friends, another of a pretty woman, and then a dozen awards, certificates, and degrees…damn over achiever. Thomas didn’t go inside, and instead turned away to head back to the living room to wait for his “boyfriend.” Ugh, that sounded weird. Thomas and Hamilton would need to get used to it. Or, find a different word for them. Although his mother referred to them as boyfriends, so they would likely have to stick with that.

The sweater was…new. They all wore business attire at work, and Thomas tried to avoid Hamilton outside of work when he could. It…wasn’t a bad look on him, per se, but the sweater itself was in fact, hideous. If Thomas could, he’d probably burn the thing. It was a few years old, and sure, it looked soft, but it was obnoxious. Or maybe it was just because Hamilton was wearing it and he was supposed to hate everything Hamilton. When Hamilton rolled over, they bickered, and then he dozed off, Thomas was left alone with his thoughts. They were not pleasant ones either. For one, he felt on edge because he was in a car with Hamilton for the next few hours and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and one of them kill the other. It hadn’t happened yet. There was a little banter, but nothing more.

Thomas kept stealing glances at the younger man, finding it strange to see him asleep. The guy was like the energizer bunny on speed, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how he should actually feel about it.

It wasn’t until they were pulling off the exit that Thomas decided to risk life and limb and gently shook Hamilton awake. “Oi, rise and shine sleeping ugly.”

“Am I dying?” The blue lump of a man didn’t sit up or turn over, but his accent finally showed. The guy was so hell bent on trying to erase any evidence of his past, Thomas hadn’t heard much of this. Damn, it was thick when he was asleep.

“No. Why would you—“

“Are we there yet?”

“No, that’s what I’m—“

“Are you dying? Wait, don’t answer that. Just lemme dream a bit.”

Thomas reached over and poked Hamilton’s sides roughly. “No. Wake up. We need to talk before we get there. Come on. I’ll even make sure mom has coffee made for you when we get there.”

That got him up. “Pass me your phone, and I’ll text her for you.” Thomas huffed and passed him his cellphone, gave him the password, and let Hamilton shoot her a quick text.

“Thank you. Now, you were saying?”

“I need to…not warn you, but I do want to give you a heads up about my sister.” Hamilton flashed him a strange look, and Thomas took that as his cue to keep going. “She’s on the spectrum, Asperger’s. I just need you to know how not to act around her and—“

“Jefferson, one of the foster homes I was in growing up, that family had a kid with it. We’re good.” Jefferson then caught a fleeting glimpse of Hamilton’s smile from the corner of his eye. “Treat her like a normal person, watch for tells that she’s being overwhelmed and help her get to a place where she’ll be comfortable if there’s a problem, no small talk, encourage deep conversation on what she likes, don’t be offended by the lack of eye contact and silence and zero interaction, and so on.”

Thomas nodded and said nothing for a bit, thinking on his next words carefully. “Look, Hamilton, my sister, is the most important person in my life…I just care, is all.”

“I understand,” he murmured. “I would be the same with mine.”

“I didn’t know you had any siblings.”

Hamilton turned away and leaned against the window, looking out at the gorgeous scenery around them. There wasn’t much green, but there was a light dusting of snow, and the fields seemed to go on forever in some places, mountains in others. Every once in a while, they’d pass a couple of miles of woods, and then it would be right back to the fields. “Yeah, but I never really knew James…”

Thomas took his eyes off of the road to stare at him. He didn’t think anyone knew that Hamilton had much of a family; Hamilton was tightlipped. The expression on his face tore at Thomas’ heartstrings. There was something broken, shattered, about a forlorn Hamilton.

“And…your parents?” he asked slowly.

Hamilton seemed to perk up at that and grinned at Thomas, but all he said about that was “Tragic backstory can be accessed after you reach level three boyfriend.”

“Hilarious.” Eyes rolling in exasperation, Thomas returned his attention to the road. “Speaking of boyfriends, we can’t keep calling each other by our last names.”

“Ugh, so I’m stuck calling you Thomas for a month? Shoot me.”

Thomas thanked every deity that no one could actually see the warmth that spread through him at Hamilton using his full name. Who would have thought that Alexander Hamilton would actually say his first name with a smile on his face, even if he were teasing him? “Shut it, Alex.”

“If you get to call me Alex, then I get to call you Tommy, right?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Still no. And if you call me that in front of my family, I’ll strangle you myself.”

There was a burst of laughter from beside him, laughter that startled him for a moment. “What is it Laf said yesterday? “Oh, kinky.” But seriously, I gotta find you a pet name or something fluffy to really sell it to your mother.”

“You will do no such thing. I am a grown ass man, and I will not tolerate pet names.” That didn’t mean he wouldn’t use them against Hamilton when they got there. ‘Lexi would love it, Thomas just knew it. “Anyway, all of this land we’ve been passing?”

“Yeah?”

“All of it belongs to my family.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I am not “shitting” you and watch your language around my mother and sisters. We are in the south, and you will have the manners of a southern gentleman, or you’re sleeping outside.”

“Got it. Now, about this land of yours?”

“Oh, right. It’s all been in the family for two centuries or so.” Thomas would not deny that his voice echoed the pride he felt in his home. It was gorgeous, had the character that Hamilton’s apartment lacked. Even the smell reflected the period of when the plantation homes were built. It was like the smell of two centuries of life and cooking, and hard work had seeped into the wood and immortalized beneath the lacquer finish. “I think even you will like it, Alex.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked curiously, pulling up his feet into the seat—Jefferson cringed—and crossing them.

“I have a library. A full library. Books from today’s time, century ago, two centuries ago…it goes on forever.” Thomas dreamed of his library when he wasn’t here. The small one he had in his apartment back in the city didn’t hold a candle to this one. “When one of us needs a break from my ridiculous family, we can hide in mine or the one at my mother’s place.”

“You’re actually inviting me into your library,” Alex asked, incredulous.

“I know you’re just as much of a bibliophile as I am; one of the few things I don’t have to worry about is you messing any of them up.” He paused a moment as he turned down another road. “And books need to be read. They’re worthless if they sit on shelves and collect dust.”

The look Hamilton gave him was something that bordered on respect or appreciation. Thomas wouldn’t go so far as to call it admiration. “For once, I have to agree with you.”

After a few minutes, Thomas was beaming and lightly slapped Hamilton’s knee. “Alexander Hamilton, welcome to Shadwell. Monticello is on the other side of the river, but we’ll stop by later. Mom will be chomping at the bit to see us.”

That pulled a snort from Hamilton and Thomas felt his smile growing. I was good to be home, even if it would be a long vacation, a whole month with his family, it was still nice to come home and see everyone again. Oh, and his sister’s cooking. Elizabeth can outdo anyone in the kitchen, even their mother, and their mother is the one who taught them how to cook.

As they pulled up into the drive, lined by trees, Thomas opened his mouth to review everything that he’d told Hamilton about how they were to behave, but he was cut off. “I know. Call you Thomas. Your mother will probably have me call her mom. Act like I’m madly in love with you. We’ll be fine Thomas.”

“I was just checking—”

“Well stop and relax a moment. You’ve got this. ‘Sides, how hard could this be?”

“You haven’t met my mother yet,” he drawled, shooting Hamilton a skeptical look. It didn’t last, however, as they could finally see the house from here; Thomas’ smile was back and brighter than ever. His mother, sister, and two nieces were waiting outside for them. He didn’t turn the car off, but he did put it in park. The family driver would get it in a bit. Thomas got out and didn’t bother getting bags or waiting on his family to come running at them. In fact, he jogged a little to get to his nieces, scooping them up with a laugh and hugging them tightly. The little girls squealed in delight and hugged their uncle back.

Thomas glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Hamilton, who was hovering at the side of the car and looking so completely out of place that Thomas almost felt sorry for what he was about to say. Almost.

“’Lexi! Come on. You need to meet THE greatest princesses that the world has ever seen.” The girls smiled and pressed kisses to Thomas’ cheek—he ignored how wet they were—and set them down. Hamilton slowly approached the small gathering, smiling nervously. Thomas had to remind himself that Hamilton wasn’t used to having a family and dear heavens, Thomas had a large one; this group of four wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg.

The younger man smiled nervously at the two women and girls and then gave a tiny wave. He had to push his sleeve up a little just so they could see his hand, but the wave was accomplished.

Thomas, meanwhile, the moment he had set the girls down, had his mother’s arms wrapped around him so tightly that he worried for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to breathe. It turned out to be just right, however, and Thomas felt himself melting into the embrace. There was nothing like a hug from his mother to make life better; Thomas was a momma's boy and he didn't mind it.

He let out a sigh he didn’t realize he needed to let go of and held her a little closer, “Hey, Ma…I’ve missed you.”

She pulled back, hands on Thomas’ shoulders and giving him the haughtiest look that Thomas had seen in ages. “Well, if my son came ‘round more often, maybe you wouldn’t have that problem.”

Thomas ignored the snort from his sister and Hamilton, smiling sheepishly, “But Ma, I’m here now, right?”

“Yes. And I refuse to let you go back until after Christmas. The president will just have to wait.”

“Ma, it doesn’t work like that.”

“I know what I meant.”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Now, who is this handsome fellah? Oh, Tommy, he’s adorable.” His mother scurried to Hamilton and hugged the man before he knew what hit him. Thomas watched him tense up, stunned and probably a little scared of the affection. Again, Hamilton didn’t have family that did this to him. His mother was going to make sure he got used to it, though. She lightly swatted the back of his head. “It takes at least two to hug dear.”

Thomas and his nieces laughed—or giggled—and Hamilton, blushing, slowly wrapped his arms around the woman. “That’s better.”

“Yes, Mrs. Jefferson.”

“None of that! I am mom, momma, ma, or whatever you wish to call me but it had better not be Mrs. Jefferson.”

Hamilton’s smile had a tiny hint of pain, but it was quickly wiped away and replaced by a winning grin, “Yes ma’am.”

“Now, Thomas has told me a little about you but not enough. Let’s get you that coffee and then you need to tell me EVERYTHING about yourself.” Hamilton didn’t get far before he was accosted by the two girls who immediately latched onto his legs.

With a laugh, he bent over and picked them up in his arms. “You two aren’t shy at all, are you?”

“Nope,” they said in unison.

“So what are your names?”

“Lucy!” “Mary!”  
“Oh really? Those are lovely names for even lovelier girls.” Lucy and Mary preened at the praise as Thomas, his mother, and Elizabeth watched with small smiles.

“You’re really short.” Thank you, Lucy, for your painful honesty, Thomas thought.

Hamilton just laughed and shrugged, “Yeah well, don’t drink coffee until you’re in college or you’ll never be as tall as your crazy uncle.”

“Oi, I am not crazy!”

“Yes, you are.” His mother and sister were both against him. And too much alike for it to be safe for him.

Hamilton smirked at him, “You definitely are. Do you remember last weekend when I was trying to finish up the laundry and you—“

Thomas leaped forward, slapping a hand over Hamilton’s mouth. He felt his face warming, “None of that.”

If it were possible, Hamilton’s Cheshire smirk seemed to grow. The next thing Thomas knew, there was a wet tongue tapping at his palm. He squawked and jerked his hand away, “How old are you again?”

“Oh, shut it. You like me because I’m young and beautiful anyway.”

“Young? Yes. Beautiful? Eh…”

Elizabeth snorted and lightly tugged on a lock of Thomas’ curls. “Oh, be nice to your boyfriend. He’s prettier than you are.”

“And I get a quarter of the sleep he gets,” Hamilton chimed in. “I wake up looking this good. Thomas has to work at it…and that bed hair.”

“All right, but yours is a rat’s nest.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know that—“

“Boys! You’re both pretty. Now come on before I shrivel up in this cold.” Both men bit back grins as they mumbled their “yes ma’ams” and followed everyone in.

Thomas stole a glance at Hamilton, who was still holding Lucy, and then down at Mary who had decided to hold both of their hands and swing them. He shared a glance with Hamilton and on a silent cue, they lifted her up in a short swing. The squeal had both men grinning at her, only for Lucy to tap on Hamilton’s cheek. When he turned his attention to Lucy, she motioned to Hamilton’s back.

“Piggyback?” Lucy nodded quickly, and Hamilton lets go of Mary’s hand long enough to swing Lucy onto his back. For a laugh, he hopped a few times, and then settled down and took Mary’s hand again. “You two are going to be the death of me. I can tell already.”

“Can we celebrate with ice cream?”

“Yeah, please?”

“It’s too cold for ice cream. If you’re going to celebrate my death like a bunch of heathens, you’re going to do it properly with a bonfire and hot chocolate,” he corrected.  
Lucy leaned over to look at Mary, expression serious. “He’s right. We’ve got to have hot chocolate.”

Mary seemed to take Lucy’s word as gospel, and the matter was settled.

“I can’t believe I’m going to die and you too will have a party without me.”

Thomas snorted, “I’ll join them.”

“Rude.”

“No!” Mary tugged at Thomas’ hand. “You’ve got to be the prince charming! You kiss him awake again because you love him.”

Thomas wanted to say that he wouldn’t go anywhere near Hamilton’s lips, but merely settled for an overdramatic eye roll. “But he’s got cooties.”

“You love him so that you won’t die.” Lucy played in Hamilton’s hair while she talked. “Even if he farts, you’ll still love him. Right? That’s love. You still like someone, even when they fart.”

“See Thomas? She’s on my side…”

The two men grinned at one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff.  
> I made Thomas'actual daughters into his nieces. Whoops.  
> And Elizabeth really did have a few problems in her life and it's believed that she had some type of mental disability. However, I hate how historians write her as an idiot. What I write about interacting with her will be based on my own experience on what works for me.  
> I didn't think about ages much. Thomas is early to mid thirties and Alex is mid to late twenties.


	3. Put That Light Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Candles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Candles are hardly mentioned until the end. I had a brain fart with my own prompt.

The kitchen was huge. A full kitchen meant for a full staff, but hey, whatever got the job done, Alex decided.

And there it was. The smell of fresh coffee.

"Please tell me that's dark roast I smell," he said dreamily. "Because it smells like it and I may marry you instead of him Momma."

She slapped his arm playfully, "None of that now. You're too young, even for my tastes...besides. This is the happiest I've seen my boy in years. I'm hoping you'll be the making of him."

Alex felt a blush dust his cheeks, and he ducked his head bashfully, "Well, I'll try ma'am."

"I know you will."

"Now, about that coffee." That was the most Alex had heard Elizabeth say since the got there, and she was having to fight off her older brother who kept hugging her. "Oh, stop being clingy or your man will never get his coffee."

"Lizzy, you're no fun. Not at all." Alex snorted at the pout. "But you're right. He's behind on his daily coffee consumption, and I have yet to see what he's like when he doesn't get enough, and I don't want to find out."

"I have choice words for you, Thomas. Be glad there are tiny ears." Alex smiled and moved to lean against the counter near the coffee.

"Can you grab me four mugs, please, Alexander?" Elizabeth asked softly, pointing to the cabinet above him.

Alex opened the door, and his face fell. "Um. I can't reach that..." Top shelf. Who puts coffee mugs on the top shelf?

"Pipsqueak." Thomas came up behind him and reached over him to grab four from the shelf.

"Ski feet."

"You know what they say about foot size, 'Lexi. Ow!"

Elizabeth smacked his arm, huffing. "Be nice. Someone actually likes your sorry self." Now both of them were blushing, Thomas from being chastised and Alex from the dick joke.

Thomas realized that he was still standing behind Alex when Alex when to step away from the counter. He got a mouthful of Lucy's back and stumbled back a step to get out of the way, mumbling a sorry.

"No. My bad."

Everyone but the girls fell silent, who kept chattering away from one another. Mary wound up raising her arms at Thomas, wanting to sit on him like Lucy was with Alex. Once she was up there, she smirked at Lucy and crowed that "I'm taller."

"No fair! My piggy is short!"

Alex glared at Thomas when the taller man laughed at him. Then asked, "How can I make it up to you Princess Lucy?"

"I wanna braid your hair. It's very pretty and super long!"

Alex nodded and pulled out a neon green elastic from his pocket, "I've got elastics that Thomas gave me when you're ready."

"Kay!" And she went to work on his hair. She tugged a little too hard sometimes, but Alex didn't complain. He just took his coffee to carefully sip at when Thomas passed him his mug.

"Make him look pretty, Lucy." Thomas was swaying side to side with Mary hugging him around his forehead.

She patted his fluffy hair, "But he's already pretty." Thomas didn't reply, only watching Alex enjoy his coffee and trying to hide his since every time Lucy tugged a lock too tightly. He smirked to himself. Served him right for being a rude little snot. "Say he's pretty Uncle Tommy."

"I think he's cute, but he's not pretty yet. He needs the whole family's' approval before he can claim the title."

Alex swatted his shoulder, "I'm pretty and you know it. The princesses have spoken."

After that, they migrated to a sitting room, where they found a few more of the family. Apparently, Mary and Lucy were Lucy's kids, Thomas' other sister. She was there with her husband, and he stood to shake his and Thomas' hands. "I'm Randolph, Lucy's husband. I see the girls have latched onto you. Literally."

Alex shrugged, which jostled Lucy a bit. "Hold still!"

"Sorry. Um, yeah they have, but I don't mind. I like kids anyway. You, sir, have great princesses."

"They certainly think they are. Spoiled rotten," Lucy said about her daughter's.

Alex grinned and gently set Lucy on a couch and then took a seat on the floor at her feet so she could continue to play with his hair.

"So Alexander, tell us about yourself. What you do, where you're from, how you met Thomas, you know, the good stuff. Spare us no details." Mrs. Jefferson set her coffee down on a coaster, "He's been a little tight lipped about you."

"Well what has he told you so far?" he asked, curious. He didn't know Thomas had said much of anything. Enough for his family to think that Alex was real and all, but not that much. It was so last minute.

"Not everything was nice. In the beginning, he complained to me frequently about what a horrible coworker you were." Lucy smirked, "What about you has changed his mind like that?"

He didn't know how to respond to that. Jefferson talked about him? To Madison, sure; the two complain to one another all of the time. He didn't think that he would complain to his family. And then the question of where he was from made him uncomfortable. Alex hated it, but he clammed up a moment.

"I..." Where he was from didn't matter, and it wasn't anyone's business. "Thomas had just returned from France, and it was the day I was presenting my financial plan, and I was actually excited to meet him finally. I'll admit that I was a bit starry-eyed and then I shook his hand a little too vigorously. Aaaand held onto his hand for too long. Honestly, I don't think I've been looking forward to something that much since I was accepted into college." Alex paused and smirked at Thomas, "And then this turd just HAD to open his mouth. I swear I wanted to knock his teeth out within the first hour of knowing him."

Thomas had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back on the couch where he sat next to Lucy. "Really? I didn't know you were happy to meet me. I just thought you were an overzealous kid on speed."

Alex wanted to look back at him, but another tug to his hair told him that it would be a bad idea even to think about it. "Well, yeah. You're Thomas Jefferson. THE Thomas Jefferson. I was a complete fanboy before we met. I don't think I've ever had to use the restroom so much, nervous bladder and all. It helped that you were hot as hell."

"Were?" Thomas' shoe poked Alex in the rear. "I'm not now?"

"Eh, you have your good days," he teased back. "Except for when you wear that fuschia coat of yours...you always look great in that. I'm sure you could come to work with bedhead, rumpled, enormous bags under your eyes and wearing pajamas, but if you have that coat on over it...honey, I melt."

"Lucky for you that I brought it."

"Then you won't be able to beat me off with a stick." Alex started to turn and flash a flirty grin at Thomas, only to have Lucy huff at him and tug his hair again. "Ow! Alright, sorry..."

Randolph cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "And you never said where you're from?"

Dammit. He thought he had escaped that question. Staring at the dark liquid in his cup, Alex swirled it around a moment, buying time before he would have to answer. "Um...Un-unimportant."

"Oh, but honey, everyone's history is important." Alex knew that Mrs. Jefferson meant well, and that she was right, but he didn't want to talk about it.

"Another time, please. I don't feel comfortable sharing that much with you...haven't even spoken to Thomas about it." There was silence in the room, save for Lucy and Mary whispering to one another behind him. Alex still didn't look up at the family around him. He didn't know these people well enough; they didn't deserve to know yet. It wasn't that they weren't friendly people; they were, but he hated talking about that mess of a childhood. "I'm from an American territory, and I don't like anything about my childhood, and leave it at that, for now."

Mrs. Jefferson looked to Thomas, brow raised in question. Thomas wasn't sure if she was doubtful about Alex not telling him about his childhood, trying to communicate that he should try and talk to Alex, or silently asking what was so bad about it all. He shrugged, thinking that it would answer all of her unspoken questions. For now, anyway. But, Alex was right, in a way. He didn't have to share it if he didn't have to.

Mary was Alex's saving grace.

"Then what's your favorite color?"

Alex let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding, relieved that he didn't have to talk about that anymore. "Green. Hunter green, emerald, or forest green. They're all nice colors, in my opinion. Very calming. And, I look pretty dang good in green, if I do say so myself."

"I like all purples, and Lucy likes blue."

"Oh really? Do you wear a lot of blues and purples you two?"

Lucy, in her excitement, accidentally yanked on his hair and despite his best efforts, a squeak of pain escaped. The child, of course, didn't notice. "I wear lots of blue! I've got Merida and Cinderella's dresses and blue tights."

"And I have Rapunzel's dress!"

"Because she wears purple?" Alex asked, trying to encourage her to keep going. Always keep a kid going if they start talking about something they like, he'd learned.

"Mmhmm!"

"I like Belle," Thomas added.

Huh, something he and Thomas agreed on. "Same. She's a bookworm, so she's cool in my books." Lucy held out her hand in Alex's line of sight, and he passed the elastic back to her.

The conversation floated back to the girls and what they liked to do and watch. Eventually, it came back to Thomas and Alex and how they knew they should date one another. Thomas beat Alex to it.

"Well, the tension had been there a while, but it finally reached a breaking point one evening after everyone left for the day. 'Lexi here works himself to death, and he hadn't been answering my calls on a project we were working on. So, rather than go home like I wanted, I was stuck going to his office to clean up the messes he makes of everything and we wound up having an argument. The idiot wouldn't shut up, and that was sort of the breaking point. I kissed him, and I finally found his off switch. It just kind of went from there."

Lucy finally finished Alex's hair, and he stood, scooping her up into his arms and taking her place before setting her in his lap. He was avoiding looking at Thomas, not wanting Thomas to read him like a book. It was embarrassing, to have Thomas talk about them like that, even if it was a lie. It sounded nice, like some silly romcom Peggy tricked him into watching with her once. But it also sounded a little TOO nice.

"Is that what happened, Alex? How did you feel about it?" Lucy asked, watching her daughter play with another one of Alex's hair ties.

"Like a teenager, actually. Again, I always knew he was gorgeous, and I found out first hand how intelligent he was too, but the invisible pull between us was something I'd been ignoring to the best of my ability for a while. I didn't want to think about any feelings or attraction from my enemy."

"The feeling was mutual, trust me. However, you're absolutely adorable when you're angry, so I used to rile you up so that I could see it. Tiny ant that's always mad at me. I don't think I could do anything right, even when I tried."

"I'm a fantastic shin kicker so watch it." Alex glanced over at Thomas and found a fond smile on his face. Nope. Not going there. "So anyway, when he kissed me, it was like I was back in high school or college, sneaking around and finding trouble." His smirk came back, "But I wouldn't let him have anything until the third date. So, I guess I forced him into asking me out."

"At least someone makes him work for something," Elizabeth mumbled, getting a snort out of her sister.

Alex's smirk flipped to a grin immediately, "See? She agrees with me! I told you that you walk around with a silver spoon in your mouth."

Thankfully, the conversation drifted away from all of that, and they were called to dinner midway through a story about Thomas trying to ask a girl out when he was in high school, and then ran off before he could hear her answer, only to miss school two days in a row out of embarrassment. Alex hadn't laughed this hard around people that were not Hercules in a long while.

"Does Laf know this?" he asked, ready to tease him as they migrated to the dining room.

"Yes, and I threatened his life if he told anyone. You? The punishment will be far worse." Like that would stop Alex.

"But wait, Thomas. Remember what I told you that Laf said to me yesterday when I threatened him?" Watching Thomas gape at him a moment, flustered, was worth the questioning and knowing looks around them.

From then on, their evening went well as everything began to wind down for the night. Thomas and Alex were ready to head for Monticello, but Mrs. Jefferson stopped them.

"Nope. You two can stay there on the weekends to enjoy your quiet time but during the week, you both are mine, and you're staying here." No one argued with her for fear of the consequences. She showed them to the room they'd be sharing for the next few weeks, and they found that their bags were already there waiting for them. "Now, you boys keep it down. I don't want to hear what you two are up to." The looks on their faces must have been priceless to have her giggling that much as she walked away.

As soon as the door was shut, Alex put as much space between himself and Jefferson as he could in the small...wait no. The room was huge. How rich were these people? "I think this bedroom and bathroom suit are bigger than my apartment," he mumbled.

Jefferson snorted from where he was stashing his clothes into one of the wardrobes. "Wait until we go to my place."

They readied themselves for bed in silence, unsure of how to approach the elephant in the room. It wasn't until they could stall no longer that they were finally forced to plan on their sleeping arrangement. The bed was large enough to fit them both comfortably, so it wasn't like they'd be squished together. Alex decided to solve it by making a wall between them with all of the decorative pillows. Jefferson nixed it because what if the girls or his sisters or mother barged in in the morning? Seeing them sharing a bed but with pillows separating them would look suspicious.

Alex wasn't happy about it, but he conceded and flopped into the bed.

"Now what are you wearing?" There was the judgment again.

Alex looked down at his t-shirt and polar bear pajama pants. "What? They're flannel, so they're warm, and it's so soft that I swear it's heaven." He ran a hand over his knee and hummed happily. "Yep. Soft and passes the touch test. That's what matters."

"Are you always cold?"

"Do you want me to stick my feet on you so that you can find out?"

"Please don't." Jefferson shut off the lights and crawled into bed beside Alex. "I cannot be held responsible for my actions if you do it."

 

It took a while, but eventually they both conked out for the night, exhausted from the drive and the socializing. Alex was upset when he woke around three am and couldn't go back to sleep. He eventually crawled out of bed and padded silently to the small desk in the corner by a window, pulling out one of his books to read until he was tired again. He needed light, though, and after finding that he had forgotten his book light, he started searching around for something to light the weird candle sitting on top of the desk. He found a small box of matches, something from a restaurant, it looked like, and he quickly had the candle lit and was soon seated with his book.

 

Thomas woke up some time later, having rolled over and accidentally faced the candle light. He squinted his eyes against it, blinking quickly as he tried to figure out the source. Hamilton. Of course, it was him. Did the man ever sleep? After his eyes adjusted to the light, he finally began to notice what he was doing. Sleeping. He'd fallen asleep while reading.

The idiot; didn't he know what that would do to his back and neck in the morning?

Sighing, Thomas forced himself out of bed and to the desk, carefully picking Hamilton up and putting him back into the bed. He blew the candle out on his way back to his side. After collapsing into the bed again, Thomas' eyes shut immediately, falling back asleep.


	4. Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wildcard Day: Christmas Tree Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know if you see any mistakes.

Thomas was the first to wake in the morning.

His sleep addled brain struggled to grasp why there was a small and warm body wrapped up in his arms that were just as tightly wrapped around Thomas as he was them. Lifting his head a little, Thomas squinted at the wooly young man beside him. Everything came back to him at once. He and Hamilton had to share a bed with one another. He'd woken up in the middle of the night to a lit candle at his desk with Hamilton sleeping on his book. Carried him back. Tucked him in. Fell into bed again beside him.

Anyway. He was now stuck with a Puerto Rican Koala trapping him.

Thomas tried to free himself carefully without waking the hellion and scurried to the bathroom to pee and shower. The warm water is what kept him in there for a few more minutes than necessary; he felt like he'd freeze to death after he crawled away from the sheets and Hamilton's warmth. When he finally got out, Thomas, in his rush, forgot his clothes. He wrapped the towel around his waist and tried to sneak out of the bathroom to grab something, only to find a bedraggled Hamilton sitting up and staring at him in shock. He was both pleased and flustered that Hamilton's eyes drifted down his face, paused on his torso, and then continued down, ending when his eyes darted back up to Thomas', and a blush dusted his cheeks and ears.

Thomas smirked and put a hand on his hip, "Like what you see?"

That pulled Hamilton from his staring, and he ducked his head, crawling out of bed and grabbing his clothes. "Shut it," he grumbled.

"Heh, not a chance. Feel free to keep looking. I know, I'm an Adonis. Want me to flex too? I would be happy to." He laughed when Hamilton flipped him off as he ran for the bathroom.

Thomas tossed on his clothes for the day, debating as to whether he should wear that coat to mess with Hamilton. His mom would get a laugh out of it because Hamilton all but said he couldn't keep his hands off of Thomas when he wore it. He decided against it and slipped a cardigan over a turtleneck and a pair of jeans. Hamilton emerged with his hair finally unbraided and hanging over his shoulders. His sweater was green this time and seemed even bigger than the last.

"Did you bring anything other than sweaters?"

"My pajamas." Hamilton wouldn't look at him, still embarrassed, apparently. Adorable, Thomas thought smugly.

They slipped their shoes on and headed downstairs to breakfast and found a few more of Thomas' siblings had shown up.

"About time you love birds show up," Lucy teased, cutting up the breakfast for the girls. Hamilton blushed again and said nothing until the girls hopped off their seats to hug Hamilton. He smiled warmly and scooped them up, kissing them dramatically on the cheeks.

"Oh dear. Kissing the princesses didn't turn me back into a prince!" They giggled and kissed him back.

"There ya go! Prince Alex is back!" Mary giggled.

Lucy shook her head quickly, "No! Uncle Tommy has to. True love."

Hamilton's blush was back, although Thomas could feel his own face warming and he thanked every deity that no one could see it. "I don't think your uncle would...I mean...there are you guys around, and we're..."

"Nope! Uncle Tommy has to."

So much for that.

Sighing dramatically, Thomas stepped in front of Hamilton and leaned in to peck his lips. The girls giggled on either side of them happily and Mary said that NOW Alex was a prince again. Thomas moved around Hamilton with a smirk to grab a seat and start dishing up. The man looked so embarrassed and flustered. Completely worth it.

"Oh, what was that, Tommy? It's a wonder he's still with you when you kiss like that. Terrible," his mother teased.

"That's alright maman, I'm..."

"He's not into PDA," Thomas cut him off, and Hamilton sent him a grateful look. "For a man so flirty, he's shy when it comes to following through on his teasing around others." There went the grateful look.

"Hush and go make me coffee, jerk." Thomas grinned, watching Hamilton give the girls back and take his own seat beside him. However, he did do as Hamilton ordered, pouring his coffee for him and fixing it as he liked.

Hamilton's small smile was back, and he took Thomas' hand under the table before starting to eat. Thomas' mom had made biscuits, gravy, bacon, grits, and more. Although, the woman called Hamilton out on skipping out on the meat.

"I don't eat pork, ma'am."

"I thought you did last—"

Hamilton grinned, "No. That was your boy."

"No wonder you're so scrawny!" Mrs. Jefferson gestured to how little Hamilton was. "You don't get your meat! You need meat on your bones."

"Ma, it's not because he doesn't pork. It's because he just doesn't eat at all." Thomas meant to help, but it only served to make it worse.

"What? Thomas are you starving this poor boy? I know I taught you how to cook," she chided.

"Ma, it's not my doing. He does it to himself. I'm not the only one that's tried to force feed him. His friend John is the worst, I believe." Hamilton snorted. "What?"

The younger man grinned and pointed his fork at him, "I didn't know you had paid attention to him."

"Of course I pay attention to him. I pay attention to all of them." Another surprised look was quickly stifled by Hamilton turning back to his food.

"You still need to feed him a little more. He's skin and bones!" Mrs. Jefferson turned to Alex and started trying to put more grits on his plate. "Here. We're going to fatten you up while you're here."

"Maman, no. It'll only go to waste. I can't eat that much." The two bickered back and forth until they found a compromise. Hamilton was stuck with another biscuit, but he drew the line at the gravy. "Do you make it from scratch with the bacon grease?"

Thomas' mother almost seemed offended by the question. "Of course it's made from scratch. I wouldn't dare have anything else served at my table and--"

"Maman, the bacon grease comes from pork fat. I don't eat that." Hamilton grinned at her and grabbed the small pot of honey instead. "I'm sorry. I thought Thomas would have told you." Thomas suddenly felt relieved about the sandwich. He'd almost given Hamilton ham. Almost. Holy shit he'd cut it close.

"So, Ma, what's on the agenda today?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation away from Hamilton's dietary habits.

"Christmas trees!" Lucy cried, her fork going into the air with her hands. Her mother was some sort of super mom; she caught the fork in the air without looking and set it back on her daughter's plate. "Lucy, you need to pay attention and settle down now." "yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth spoke up next, "There's a Christmas tree farm about thirty or so minutes from here. We had planned to drive up together and pick one out for here and Tommy, you and Alex can go pick one out for Monticello. I know you two will be going there tonight for the weekend so I believe it would be nice to grab it while we're out."

Hamilton nodded and pointed at Thomas, "I don't know how big your place is so you'll have to help me figure out what the height limit is."

"Up to a twelve footer, although I usually stick with about six or seven. It's more manageable and not as tacky."

"You? Not going for flashy and tacky? Someone sound the alarm; I think we've been thrown into the Twilight Zone." Thomas let go of Hamilton's hand enough to pinch his side, "Ow! What?"

"Eat your biscuit or else twirp." The two had a stare off, fighting back glares but their eyes were still narrowed in a challenge. Neither planned to break first, but Mary had other plans and asked, "What's the Twilight Zone?"

Hamilton wound up breaking first, turning his attention to her at the drop of a hat. "You don't know what the Twilight Zone is?" Mary shook her head, and Hamilton looked to her mother in shock. "What sort of childhood are you giving these rugrats? They don't know what the Twilight Zone is! Neglect. That's what this is."

"None of us have watched it, so far as I know," Randolph said. "It's usually Doc McStuffins or something. I don't think I watched it as a kid either. What about you?"

Lucy shook her head and gestured at Thomas, "You?" Thomas shook his head. Not him either.

"Ma and I have," Elizabeth chimed in. "Once, I think."

Hamilton gestured to Elizabeth, but his eyes were on Lucy. "See? She knows what's up."

Thomas' brother snickered from the corner until his wife elbowed him. "What? The guy's a spitfire. About time Tommy brings home someone with spunk."

Thomas ignored him in favor of catching Hamilton's hand before he could accidentally smack him with it in his wild gesturing. "I guess you're about to force us into a movie night at some point."

"Yes. So long as Lucy and Randolph don't mind. These princesses need a proper education."

It was Randolph's turn to laugh, "Well if you're this excited about it, I guess it wouldn't hurt. Just name when and where."

"Tonight, if you all are up for it? At least one episode," he insisted. "We need to watch the library one. That one is absolutely perfect."

The matter was settled, and everyone finished their breakfast quickly. Thomas volunteered himself and Hamilton to do dish clean up. Hamilton had to remove his sweater and drape it over a chair so it wouldn't get wet but he quickly sidled up next to Thomas to dry as he washed. It was great, except Hamilton kept calling him out on the spots he was missing. "Missed a spot here..." Thomas missed several apparently, and Hamilton called him out on every one of them. Finally, Thomas had enough and flicked a few bubbles at him.

"What? Maybe if you'd wear your glasses, you could see this stuff. Or are you just getting old?" Hamilton rubbed the suds off of his face with a huff, glancing around to make sure no one was around that would see before scowling at Thomas and flipping him off. Seeing Elizabeth coming from the corner of his eye a second later, Thomas decided to go for revenge and swiped the drying towel, only to pop Hamilton on the ass with it.

"That's for calling me old."

"You are old."

Thomas shot his sister a look, "I am not."

"Are too. Don't think that I don't know about the aches you complain about on cold mornings." She smiled smugly at him, "You're ancient."

"And you're the poster child for the bratty younger sister."

"Apparently, you haven't met yourself, Thomas." Now they're both against me, Thomas thought. Hamilton and Elizabeth. Ganging up on him. He'd never survive this trip.

"Oh, stay out of it," he grumbled, going back to the dishes.

"Even your boyfriend thinks you're a brat, Thomas. That should tell you something." Thomas elected to ignore her as she grabbed her medicine and downed it with her coffee. "Alex, I don't know how you put up with him."

"You've known him for three decades; I don't know how YOU put up with him."

"Are you two seriously going to make my life miserable for the duration of this month?"

"Yes," they said simultaneously. Great.

 

\--

 

Alex couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jefferson, in only a towel, still damp, and unholy hell that man's body should be illegal. No one should look that good. No one. Alex wondered if he could bounce a quarter off of Jefferson's abs and it bounce right into orbit around the earth. His thoughts on testing that theory were out the window the moment Jefferson opened his stupid mouth. Alex was embarrassed to have been caught staring and forced himself to his feet, grabbed his things, and then was hiding in the bathroom as soon as possible.

He just wanted to die right there. Alex knew the guy was attractive, but damn. And now Jefferson knew that Alex appreciated how he looked, which made it worse.

Alex started the water and hurriedly crawled in.

It wasn't until he went to shampoo his hair that he remembered that his hair was still braided. Alex quickly undid the tangled mess and a few minutes later, he was out of the bathroom and tugging his sweater the rest of the way down.

 

Breakfast was an adventure and thank heavens it was over as soon as it was. Alex didn't think he would be able to last much longer under the scrutiny of his eating habits. He heard enough from his friends; he didn't need it from complete strangers too. When everything was cleaned up, and he'd won his arguments with Jefferson, Alex excused himself a moment and ran up the stairs to grab his medicines now that he had food on his stomach. Jefferson had followed him, although Alex didn't know it until he spoke up behind him.

"What's that you're taking?"

Alex tensed a second and then forced himself to relax as he downed it. "That is level 4 boyfriend information. You're not ready."

"Hamilton, this isn't something to joke about. Seriously, if there's an issue at any point, I need to know what you've taken." Alex looked back at the man and was surprised by the genuine concern on his face, and it took him a moment to finally answer.

"Wellbutrin. That's all you need to know." Alex snapped closed the flap on his weekly pill calendar and slid it back into his toiletry bag. "Did they say when we're leaving?"

"In about an hour or so. There's not really any rush. At the moment, everyone is sort of milling around and catching up or relaxing before we dive head first into the madhouse of a Christmas tree farm." Jefferson seemed to be texting on his phone when Alex looked back up, but he didn't ask him who he was talking to; it wasn't his business, was it?

Alex said nothing more as he grabbed the small hairdryer in his bag and made for the bathroom. Like hell was he going out in the cold with wet hair. He'd die. Needing his sweater and coat would be bad enough, but he didn't need to increase his chances of dying from the cold. He came back out a few minutes later to find Jefferson sitting against the headboard, book in his lap and glasses resting on his nose.

When he looked up, his eyes zeroed in on Alex's hair and said, "I liked it better when it was down."

"And once again, I don't dress for you."

Reading did look like a good idea, though, and Alex grabbed his book and glasses from the desk and hopped onto the bed beside Jefferson. When he'd kicked his shoes off, Alex dove back under the blankets and rolled onto his belly to rest on the pillow while he read. His sweater was tangled in the sheets the whole time, however, and so there was a lot of squirming and tugging until he got comfortable.

"Are you quite finished?"

Alex ignored Jefferson and made himself comfortable before he stilled. "Now I am."

"About damn time."

Alex flipped him off again and then settled in to read. It was an ancient law book Lafayette had found him when he went back to France over the summer, but Alex was just now finding the time to relax and read it.

"That's French," Jefferson commented some time later.

"Yep."

"I keep forgetting you speak it."

"It's actually my native language." Alex didn't look up from his book, continued to read, even while speaking with Jefferson. "Well, one of them, anyway. Where I'm from, you had three different languages mixing there. I can switch comfortably between European French, which is the equivalent of what you would have called Standard English in school, and Creole, but I haven't used it in an age. I don't have anyone to speak it with here in Virginia or up in New York. I'm afraid of growing rusty." He finally paused in his reading and looked up to Thomas, "So I'm natively fluent in three languages, four, if you count Creole as a language all it's own rather than a dialect. I know everyone has a different opinion on the language."

"Do you have a secondary?"

"I know Latin, Italian, and German. I'm fluent in all three, but I haven't had the time to take the exams to make it official for Italian and German. I want to learn Arabic next since the language is used in so many places internationally, but I don't know yet. I need to find the time first." Alex pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What about you?"

"English is my first and only language. European French and Canadian French would be my second. I know just a tiny bit of German but not much. I wouldn't be able to survive alone in Germany with what I know." Thomas shrugged, "Eventually, I might pursue it."

Alex went back to his book, saying offhandedly, "You're smart; I think you'd pick up on it quickly enough to survive at least three weeks."

Jefferson bumped his knee against Alex's side, "You have so little faith in me."

"I try."

"And wait, hang on. Did you just say I'm smart? Can I get that in writing? Can I record it and send it to James as proof that I'm not hearing things?"

Alex snorted and shook his head, electing to ignore Jefferson. Again. But it was hard to with the man's ass a short distance away from his face. If only the towel hadn't covered THAT part of him earlier. Maybe next time.

Next time?

No. No next time. Never, if he can help it. He hated the man.

But that didn't mean he had to hate the way the guy looked.

Then fell silent after that and continued to read for the next two hours until Lucy and Mary barged in and jumped onto the bed, scaring the hell out of the men when the door opened with a slam. The girls hopped onto the bed and crawled over Thomas and Alex, jumping around excitedly as they announced that it was time to go tree shopping. Alex set his book and glasses on the side table before rolling onto his back. He didn't look to see who he grabbed, only that he grabbed on of them and dragged them under the blankets with him. It turned out to be Lucy that he'd kidnapped to curl up with under the blankets.

"No...maybe later. You're really cozy, and I think I'll just sleep on you." He held her close and dropped his head onto her belly, and when she wouldn't hold still, he lifted her shirt a little to blow a raspberry on her belly. She squealed and squirmed around, trying to escape.

"No! Uncle Tommy! Uncle Tommy help!"

Jefferson snorted, "You got yourself into that mess, you can get yourself out of it."

She couldn't escape, not until Mary jumped onto Alex and tried to "tickle" him--really it was her just jabbing him with her fingers a little too hard for it to be ticklish--and Alex made sure to fake a squawk and try to escape. It wasn't until Jefferson ripped the blankets away and held Alex down, that the girls finally managed to tickle the man.

"Thomas, I swear on--your mother that-----I will strangle you if you----don't let me go!"

"Lemme think, no."

It wasn't until Alex couldn't breathe very well that he was finally freed from the girls' torturing.

When they heard Mrs. Jefferson calling for them to hurry up and quit "cuttin' the fool," all four of them finally got out of bed and started putting themselves together to go. Alex had to fix his hair again, put his shoes on, and grab his gloves and giant coat before he could head down after them. Jefferson was just fine in his--damn him--fuschia coat and leather gloves. When they got to the front door, everyone else seemed to be much the same. Alex felt a little out of place in his "I don't want to freeze to death" gear while everyone else was in their runway model best. He was just stepping out the door when Jefferson grabbed his hand and yanked him back a moment.

"Yeah, no. You're not going out like that." He held up a finger, wanting Alex to wait a moment as he went to the closet and pulled a different coat out. "This'll be just as warm, but you won't look like a damn marshmallow."

"At least I'd be a cute marshmallow."

"Keep tellin' yourself that darlin'."

Alex switched out his coat reluctantly and slid the charcoal one on. Jefferson was right; it was very warm and very cozy and was only a tad big on him. "This almost fits...whose is this?"

"One of Lucy's when she was in college."

"I'm in a woman's coat."

"Alexander, are you warm?"

"Yes."

"Then don't complain about it. And here." He wound a red scarf around Alex's neck and pretended to choke him with it before letting go and heading outside. "Now hurry up before all of the trees are gone or before my mother thinks we're up to no good."

"I would call you trying to strangle me with a scarf as "no good," Thomas." Alex jogged to catch up with him, and they crawled into Thomas' car to follow everyone else. "Wouldn't you?"

"No, I'd be doing the world a favor. You're welcome." Thomas turned the car on and cranked up the heat, pointing all of the vents in Alex's direction, "so you won't complain," Jefferson had mumbled. The drive was nice. There was still frost on the ground and a patch of old snow here or there in the fields.

"It's nice when we've had more than a dusting of snow. The fields go on forever and are completely white. They're mostly untouched save for the occasional animal tracks here or there. It's beautiful." Alex looked away from the scenery and back to Jefferson as he spoke. "I hope we get a good snow while we're here. It'd be nice."

"I would like to see it," Alex admitted quietly. "We only ever get the dirty gray snow from the pollution that's pushed up onto the sidewalks. I have yet to see fresh, clean snow."

"I thought you lived in New York?" Jefferson glanced away from the road long enough to take in Alex's wistful expression as the man stared longingly at the fields again.

"Yeah, in the city. There wasn't really enough clean snow anywhere for me to call it "pretty" or anything. And I'm usually sick as a dog in the winter. I go out even less than I normally do."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you always sick?"

"Well, for one, I'm still not used to this weather. Almost a decade and I still freeze in anything under seventy. Even in the summer, I'm sometimes cold and need a jacket or something. Hercules teases me about wearing hoodies and what not in the summer. "Man, how do you not melt like that?"" Alex's imitation was spot on, although Jefferson didn't know Hercules well enough to be sure. "Two, I'm not the healthiest person anyway. I don't go out much, I hardly eat, I barely sleep, my childhood was even worse, but that wasn't anything I could help. The childhood thing set me up for failure, in a way, I guess. It stunted my growth and so on...but hey, that's what jackets are for and all."

"Hamilton, what did happen back then?"

Alex returned his gaze to Jefferson, eyeing him warily. What was safe to say and what wasn't? He'd already said a little too much, hadn't he? "I'm...not ready to go into it in detail yet. Just know my childhood was the exact opposite of yours."

"I mean, I know that much. I knew you had it rough, but I wasn't sure how bad it had been."

"It was hell. I didn't have a father, my brother left, mom died, cousin committed suicide, I wound up in the system. That's enough to be going on, don't you think?"

An awkward silence fell between them and after a minute of it, Jefferson reached over and found Alex's hand. Both of them were surprised that Alex didn't shove his hand away.

 

The rest of the drive was like that, silent and oddly peaceful. Alex and Jefferson met with the family once they got there and, as one large body, they flocked to the grove of trees and started hunting for the right ones. Mrs. Jefferson shooed Alex and Jefferson away to find a tree for Monticello. Silently unhappy about being sent off together again, the pair split away and went down the rows of trees. It took a few minutes for Alex to finally begin to show his excitement.

Tree hunting.

He'd never done this before.

Without thinking, he bounded forward to one and pointed it out to Jefferson with a grin, "How about this one?"

If Jefferson noticed Alex's excitement, he didn't comment on it. Yet. "Eh, it's got a bald spot here. You probably didn't see it because you're so tiny."

Alex bumped Jefferson's shin with his foot and warned, "Careful. I am an excellent shin kicker, and I will kick you."

"I didn't know you were tall enough to reach my shins! My goodness, what a world we live in. You're full of surprises, aren't you Hamilton?" Jefferson flicked Alex's nose and moved on to the next trees.

"And you're full of shit," was grumbled behind him when Alex began to follow Jefferson again. He didn't stay this way and was right back at it with the boundless energy, one tree to the next to the next and Jefferson began to feel like he was chasing a toddler.

"Geez, Hamilton, you'd think you'd never have gone to buy a tree before."

Alex turned and faced Jefferson as he continued to walk backward, "Because I haven't. I have a small tabletop tree at home and keep it simple."

"Why?"

"Hercules has his family, Lafayette has his fiance, John has his family, Eliza and her sisters have their family, and so on." He shrugged and turned back around, making for the next tree.

"What does that have to do with you having a tabletop tree?" Jefferson joined him at the tree Alex stopped at, only for Alex to point out a spot on the side that was a little bare.

"Becuase big trees are for celebrating with your friends and family. Tabletop trees are for when you're on your own for Christmas." Alex said it like it was nothing, something trivial that didn't matter. Jefferson was about one hundred percent sure that Alex was putting up a front about it. Who didn't spend time with someone one Christmas?

"What about the Washingtons? I thought you all were close."

"We are. I might go over for dinner on Christmas Eve or something, but they have their own kids and their families to worry about without me tagging along. The deserve the time alone with their family, and I try to stay out of their way." Alex didn't tell him that he usually avoided spending Christmas with everyone, even when invited to; he was afraid of being in the way or causing problems. All of his friends deserved time with their families. They didn't need Alex under foot. He eventually stopped at what he thought might be the perfect tree and looked to Jefferson for his approval. The older man didn't see anything wrong with it and nodded at Alex.

"This one would do just fine." Jefferson marked it and gestured for Alex to wait a moment while he went to grab a saw.

"I never thought I would see the day that you would be doing back-breaking labor."

Thomas huffed a laugh, kneeling down and motioning for Alex to hold onto the tree above him while he cut through it. "I grew up on a plantation. Despite the workers, we've hired to help out, my siblings and I were still expected to work right along side them. Besides, how else do you think I look that great naked?"

Alex blushed at Jefferson's smug smirk and raised eyebrow, and a woman nearby only giggled in embarrassment as she scurried away.

"We will never speak of that again."

"Oh, I think we will." Jefferson because to cut into the tree, sawing through it quickly enough that they finally had it cut down and onto a sled in a few minutes. "Admit it; I look pretty damn good."

"You look like a slug that drank too many protein shakes."

"I will take that as you admitting that I look great naked."

The two bickered back and forth over the matter until everyone had the trees they wanted picked out and paid for. Jefferson finished passing a worker extra money and left his tree with them to take care of.

"They'll deliver it to Monticello for us. I don't feel like getting tree sap on my car. It'll be waiting for us tonight though so, we'll figure it out when we get there."

"So we're actually going to decorate that tree at your place?" Alex asked incredulously.

"Obviously. We can't have a naked tree in my sitting room." Jefferson paused a moment, and his smirk came back as he climbed back into his car, "Although, me naked under the tree sounds like a great idea."

"I will make sure the tree isn't anchored properly so that it falls on you and you're stuck being itchy from the needles all night."

"Aw, you do care."

"Just drive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the staff or cast or something did describe Lin as a cuddly, Puerto Rican koala. I'm trying to remember who it was.  
> Anyway, that was me tipping my hat to that because I thought it was hilarious.


	5. I Want Your Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cookies Thomas can't have, Gene Autry Christmas, and Moody Alex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was kinda funny and then it was sad and then it was fun again and then it was sad again.

When they got back to Shadwell Jefferson helped Randolph and Robert carry the tree inside and set it in its stand. Alex grabbed a small pitcher from the kitchen and filled it with cool water to pour into the base to keep the tree hydrated. Even he knew that the tree had to stay damp to protect it from a fire.

And Alex had to admit; watching Jefferson lift a tree wasn't a half bad sight to behold. Now that he knew what kind of godlike body was hiding under those clothes, he could appreciate the effort that went into lifting the thing. His imagination went crazy with the thought of it, and he had to distract himself by distracting the girls to keep them from getting in their way.

"How about, while they get that setup, we go find your mom and go decoration hunting. There have to be lights and ornaments somewhere around here." They looked delighted and ran off to find their mother, Lucy so that they could find the tree decorations. They came back with Elizabeth instead as Lucy was helping Mrs. Jefferson in the kitchen with something.

"This way. There's an attic stairway at the far end of the hall." Elizabeth led them upstairs. "Back in the day, this was the slave quarters for the house staff. They had it much better than the other slaves but even still. It was sweltering hot in the summer. They would keep windows and the attic door open to keep cool. The house was built to accommodate it, at least. There was a window on the East and West side of it that allowed a breeze or wind to run through the attic to keep them cool. In their mind, slaves that passed out or died from heat exhaustion were worthless, so they had to give them SOME luxuries."

"It wasn't nice, though," Mary added. "No one should be made to do that."

Alex was glad that at least the girls were taught that slavery was wrong. He figured that of anyone in the family, Thomas would probably be the most flippant about it. With the way he worked his staff and interns, the man basically had slaves of his own.

"Did your mommy teach you?" He laughed, "She may need to teach Uncle Tommy that."

"Thomas is actually the one who made sure that they understood that it's wrong." Alex looked to Elizabeth in surprise. Well, he wasn't expecting that one. She met his gaze briefly, face devoid of any emotion as she studied him in turn. After a moment, she hummed to herself and continued up the stairway and into the attic.

The way she had explained it to him before was nothing like seeing it himself. It was a little musty in there, despite the cooler weather, and Hamilton thought it would be a little smaller. There was actually a comfortable amount of space in there for a few people to sleep and wash comfortably.

"It doesn't look like how I expected."

"What, cramped? No. Our family was better than that to the house slaves. I explained why already."

Elizabeth started searching the boxes and quickly found the stack that held everything they needed for the trees. She slipped a notepad out of her pocket and put a green sticky note on the beam above the boxes to remind herself for later. "Okay, these two, the girls can carry. They're the handmade ones from their art projects in class."

Alex helped her move them away and pass the small boxes to the girls. He wasn't expecting Elizabeth to begin drilling him the moment they were gone.

"So, you and Thomas," she started casually, too casually.

"Me and Thomas?"

"He always complains to me about you, and then suddenly, you two are long time boyfriends." She looked up from a box she'd opened, met his eyes a brief second, and then went back to folding it shut. "Yet you haven't told him about your family history. Why? To me, it makes more sense to get it over with, even if it's uncomfortable. It'll keep hurting until you tell someone who will understand. Of anyone in your life, he or your closest friend should be the ones to hear it and can share the burden."

Alex stopped looking through one of the boxes, leaning back to sit a moment as he thought about it. "It's...not that simple."

"Isn't it? Just say it," Elizabeth ordered bluntly. "Treat it like a band-aid and get it over with."

"Elizabeth, it really isn't that...talking about it means reliving it and it still hurts too much to do that to myself. My nightmares and fear of storms are bad enough. Going into it with someone would just make it worse." He fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater, tugging at the fabric and picking at a loose piece of lint. "And we still bicker. The one time I told a significant other, they threw it in my face during a fight and said that I was a whore, just like my mother. Like hell will I do that again."

"Yet you're telling me a little. Why tell me but not Thomas? Do you not care about what I think on the matter?"

Alex swore it was like she was poking at him, needling it out of him but, out of experience, anyone would be more trustworthy than Jefferson or Burr.

"What? No! No, not that...but I don't know you as well, if you turned on me or something, it wouldn't hurt as much." Alex shook his head and quickly got up, grabbing the box to take with him. "Enough, please." And with that, he bolted out of the attic...and ran straight into Jefferson at the door.

Jefferson steadied Alex with his hands on Alex's shoulders and gave him a questioning look. What was that about? it said. Alex shook his head, again, and brushed passed him to get away from the mess. He didn't want to talk about that shit for a reason, and now it had him on edge. He wanted to curl up somewhere and hide for a bit.

The library.

Jefferson said he could escape there now and then if he needed to.

He'd planned on dropping off the box in the sitting room and saying that he would be back in a bit, but Mrs. Jefferson had other plans and dragged him to the kitchen to help bake cookies. The girls were currently helping their mother cut a log of Pillsbury sugar cookie dough that had Christmas trees in the center. Alex and Mrs. Jefferson would be working on the "from scratch" stuff.

"Do you know how to bake cookies, dear?" She easily grabbed things from the top shelf, and Alex silently cursed the Jeffersons for being tall.

"I can make oatmeal cookies and cut up apples into the dough. Add extra cinnamon, and you've got apple pie cookies." He smiled shyly and shoved the sleeves of his sweater up his arms and then put the apron on when she handed him one.

"Oh, that sounds delicious. Do you mind if we make chocolate chip first? And then we MUST have those cookies you mentioned."

"Yes, ma'am."

So they got to work, chatting ildly as they worked and Mrs. Jefferson gave him orders for what she needed while she did the mixing. Alex learned about Jefferson's childhood and his love of baseball when he was little; he played t-ball at one point, and Mrs. Jefferson promised to show Alex a photo of him when they had time later. Then came the embarrassing stories and Alex was wheezing with laughter.

"How in the he--" Alex glanced back at the girls and corrected himself, "heck--how in the heck did he manage that? He was a toddler. Toddlers are tiny and shouldn't be able to reach the deadbolt."

"Oh, he was a regular Houdini. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, or he'd find trouble in no time. Back then, he wasn't afraid of dirt either. That boy would take a mud bath every day if he could." Mrs. Jefferson grinned at him and then gestured to the brown sugar. "Now, he doesn't like dirt and grime, but he won't shy away from it. Habit from growing up on a plantation during planting season."

"Ma, please tell me you're not telling him about me and mud."

Alex turned to see Jefferson leaning against the doorway, grimacing, and smirked. "And t-ball, and you escaping from your toddler pen and unlocking the front door and then going for a stroll outside...and then the time in elementary when you came home with blue and pink paint in your hair and all over your face. Maman is showing me pictures later. Oh, the dirt I have on you, Love."

"Really, Ma? The paint and the toddler story?"

"And the mud baths; don't forget that," Alex crowed. "This is great. I love it. Please, Maman, tell me more about the troublemaker of the family."

"Ma, please don't." Jefferson finally came into the kitchen and got a pinch of flour, flicking it into Alex's face, making him sputter and scrub furiously at his face. With Alex distracted for a moment, Jefferson reached over him to grab a pinch of dough, only for Mrs. Jefferson to smack his hand away with the wooden spoon. "The twerp hasn't earned those stories yet."

"He puts up with you; he's earned it." Once more, one of Jefferson's sisters teamed up against their brother to side with Alex. And knowing this, Alex made a face at Jefferson, tongue stuck out a little.

He wound up with more flour in his face.

"Alright, you're not getting apple pie cookies for that." Alex rubbed the flour off of his face the best he could, but now it was in his hair, dusted his ears, a little had drifted to his shoulders, and there were fingers swipes on his face from where he'd tried to wipe it off.

"Apple pie cookies? Wait, you bake?" Alex swatted him with a hand towel, huffing in annoyance. "What? I thought you lived off of takeout and peanut butter."

Mrs. Jefferson snorted and pointed at Jefferson with the wooden spoon, "Well, if you wouldn't starve the boy, he wouldn't have to eat that horse crap. And yes, the boy can cook. We're about to start on his cookies next while these ones here bake. And, as he'll be head chef for this, I guess he does have the final say in who gets them and who doesn't."

"I think I'll let Mary and Lucy have your cookies, Thomas. They've earned it." Alex's smirk hadn't fallen; in fact, it had grown.

"What have they done to earn my cookies?"

"They're cute. That's all the payment I need for these." Alex turned away with a grin and started measuring out what he needed for his own batch.

Jefferson leaned against the counter next to where Alex was working, wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously at his boyfriend. "But I thought I was cute."

"Pfft, keep dreaming, Thomas."

"At least admit that I'm pretty."

Alex took a pinch of flour and flicked it back into Jefferson's face, "I think that's an improvement, but no, I refuse." Before he knew what was happening, Alex went from trying to measure out the brown sugar to being slung over Jefferson's shoulder.

He didn't squeak.

He didn't squeal.

He manned up and took it.

No surprised noises with a three-octave jump.

Okay, maybe there was a little.

Jefferson carted him around the kitchen, much to the amusement of Mary and Lucy who were giggling at Jefferson's antics. "I don't know girls but what do you think? Should we put a white handprint on his booty?" There was a shouted affirmative.

"My what? Thomas Turdhead Jefferson, I swear on your mother's baking that I will end you if you even dare put flour on my as--" Before he could finish the expletive, there was a slight smack that shut him up. "Really? This is my favorite pair of jeans..." Alex huffed and sagged over Jefferson's shoulder, pouting a little at the girls. "Traitors. I was going to give you extra cookies."

"But this is more fun, Alex, don't you think? I believe they 've earned those cookies for siding with me for once." Alex squeaked when another handprint was delivered, and he started squirming again.

"Put me down you oaf!"

Jefferson finally did and found Alex huffing and mixing a glare with a pout. Instead of telling him off for that, he turned away and scurried back to Mrs. Jefferson's side so he could finish the batch of cookies. Mrs. Jefferson would swear to herself that she heard the expletives in Alex's mutterings. Something about giving him what for when they got to Monticello later. Ah, young love. She missed the days when she and her husband got into mischief like this.

 

Eventually, the cookies were all baked, and everyone settled in in the sitting room to munch on them while they started putting up decorations on the tree. Except for Hamilton and Thomas, who went to change out of their flour-covered clothes.

"I can't believe you did that," came the grumblings of the younger man as he dug through his clothes to find something that would be comfortable for the evening.

"Hey, they bought it and thought that we were into regular couple antics." Thomas shrugged and worked on getting the flour out of his hair, no small task, and then switched over to change his shirt next. "Besides, you had it coming," he added with a sneer.

The withering look from Hamilton should have been enough to kill everything off for winter before the cold had set in a month prior. "I did nothing to deserve that."

It was meant to be a distraction, Thomas thought to himself; it had worked.

He caught the tail end of the hushed conversation between Hamilton and Elizabeth. Thomas knew he should have walked away, but curiosity for what dirt he could get on Hamilton had been too good to pass up. He just wasn't expecting to hear what he did. What about Hamilton's mother made her a whore? Was she actually one or did something else happen? What happened to the rest of his family and what's up with the storms? More and more questions buzzed around in his head.

Thomas had found himself in a pickle with Elizabeth blessing him out in her own way for listening in and possibly giving Hamilton the impression that he wasn't safe to confide in. What had he done to make something like that type of intimacy near impossible? He almost broke down and told her the truth. Almost. But he wanted to wait a while longer before he said anything to Elizabeth. Of anyone in his family, she would keep the secret. She wouldn't agree with it, and would likely call him an idiot, but she would keep quiet.

Which is what led him to doing what he could to taunt Hamilton in the kitchen, pester him out of his head and focus on something else. He didn't quite get why he cared. Okay, maybe he did a little. Thomas may not like Hamilton or get along with him, but that didn't mean he wanted the man absolutely miserable. At least not during the month they'd be pretending to be boyfriends.

When they finished dressing, they both headed downstairs together, hand in hand for show, and met everyone in the sitting room to get started. Mrs. Jefferson had put on an old Gene Autry Christmas album while they worked on the tree, and everyone seemed to be in good enough spirits.

Except for Hamilton. He seemed almost hesitant to help, reluctant even to be near the family. When he remembered the snippet from earlier, Thomas realized that Hamilton might not know what to do, especially with people he wasn't familiar with. Thomas could understand that; it was exhausting and nerve wracking to try and do something new with unfamiliar people. He motioned for Hamilton to join them, but still the younger man hesitated and held himself back. Thomas got a headshake rather than Hamilton joining him at his side.

He was having none of that.

Without preamble, Thomas closed the distance between where he'd stood at the Christmas tree and where Hamilton was sitting on the ottoman, pulling him to his feet without asking if Hamilton even wanted to be up, and gently tugged him towards the tree.

"I need your help with something."

Hamilton snorted in disbelief, "You? Need my help? Someone alert the press."

His laugh was nervous, strained, and Thomas pulled him closer to sling an arm over Hamilton's shoulder. "Well, you're short, and I need someone short for this job."

"I'm not short. I'm the bottom end of average for a male."

"Keep telling yourself that sweetheart." He grabbed the lights and handed Hamilton the rolled up strand. "I'll tuck it in between the branches and you can unroll it for me as I go."

Hamilton looked dubiously between the lights and Thomas, "And why do you need a shorter person for this?" Thomas did NOT miss how Hamilton said "shorter" rather than "short."

"Because I don't need you to reach up high for me." He got a small kick to his shin for that.

In the end, Hamilton complied and helped Thomas with the lights while the others went through the bulbs and garland to pick out what theme they'd have this year. Overall, it was peaceful and warm until Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer came on, which had the girls singing excitedly and tugging at his sleeve, wanting him to join in. Thomas gave Hamilton an exasperated look, but joined Mary and Lucy anyway.

 

Now that he could escape, Alex scurried away from the tree, slowly backing out of the room while everyone was busy. When he was sure his escape was successful, he turned and made for the library. It was all too much. Too many colors, too many people, too many emotions FROM said people, too many moments that Alex felt like he was intruding on. He was a thief of memories, a ghoul at the party that shouldn't be there. Alex wasn't meant to be part of this family moment; they weren't his family, and they never would be, especially after Christmas was over.

So he slipped into the library and got the fire started before picking through the books to settle in with one. It was safer in here. There was no one but him, no one for him to bother, and it was quiet to let him relax. Alex hadn't had the chance to relax after the conversation with Elizabeth, to reorder his thoughts, and the tension seemed to be building in the back of his mind until he thought he'd explode.

Everything was too much right now, and he needed the solitude.

Even when he went out with the guys for a night, it was only for a couple of hours; Alex would have to endure several weeks of this. It was only day two, and he thought he was going to crash and burn. How in the hell would he survive this?

He pushed it all out of his mind and sat on the couch for a few moments, watching as the fire licked at the starter and then jumped to the wood he'd put in there. Something about watching it grow was calming, and the crackle was just as soothing. After a few more moments of staring, he turned his attention to the book of poems he'd grabbed and began to read through it. It was when he hit the second poem that he wished the book was his so that he could mark notes on it with a pencil without fearing some sort of retribution for damaging someone else's book.

 

Thomas caught the tail end of Hamilton making a run for it, but he was right in the middle of a song with the girls and couldn't check on him immediately. They demanded that he sing two more before he could get away, and he immediately went to the kitchen to make mint tea. There were two places Hamilton could be hiding; their shared bedroom, or the library he'd told Hamilton about. The library wouldn't have much of anything Thomas-related, so he figured the man would hide there. That, and whenever Hamilton seemed stressed, he'd write or read like his life depended on it.

He was right; Thomas found Hamilton on the sofa in the library, fire lit as he read beside it. He slipped into the library silently and made to sit on the couch beside Hamilton. It startled the man, and he looked up at Thomas with wide and scared eyes for a moment, like a teenager that had been caught sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, but then the expression was gone and exchanged for something flat. Thomas ignored the change and didn't bother asking for permission as he set the two mugs down on the small coffee table in front of them.

"You went missing."

Hamilton eyed him warily for a split second before giving a noncommital shrug as he went back to his book. "Just didn't want to be in your Kodak moment with your family." Slowly, Hamilton reached forward and grabbed his mug to sip at. "It didn't seem appropriate."

Thomas kicked his shoes off and pulled his feet up, "Is that the only reason you left?"

"And you caaaare, why?" Hamilton wouldn't look at him, kept his eyes glued to a page he was no longer reading. "Didn't think that was part of the deal."

Thomas rolled his eyes. Dear stars someone help him deal with this annoying man. "It's not, but it doesn't mean I can't check on you."

"Ah yes, the darling boyfriend, off to save his beau when he's uncomfortable around a family moment. I'm sure they'll eat it up." His voice was toneless, flat as Hamilton forced anything other than dry annoyance out of his speech.

Thomas wanted to snap at him over it, to get over himself and join them anyway, but he knew it wouldn't do anything. If anything, it would probably make the situation worse.

"Alexander--"

"Hamilton, remember?"

Thomas huffed and gritted his teeth a second, "Hamilton, you know damn well that none of that is a good excuse for running off. If nothing else, you're supposed to be in there for show. Now, if there's nothing wrong, get your ass back out there. If there is, tell me so we can talk about it. The last thing I need is for you to be uncomfortable."

Hamilton snapped his book shut and stood, "I'm hanging around you for a month to get a bill signed, of course I'm uncomfortable." He picked up his mug and stalked to the door. "Coming, darling?" Thomas hated the sickly sweet way Hamilton said the endearment. It made his stomach turn.

But, he stood and followed Hamilton out.


	6. Botched That Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of a filler chapter to cover the full weekend/time skip thing and also as an apology for being behind on my calendar thingy. I have a several hour drive tomorrow and should be able to catch up.  
> Alex is a turd, but what else is new?

The rest of the night went without a hitch, Alex feigning happiness at being included and exuding a soft and pleasant presence for anyone near by. He "forgot" the tea Jefferson made him, graciously accepted the compliments on his apple pie cookies, and all around did what he could to help out without being part of the family. Alex took a page from Aaron's book. Talk less, smile more, don't let them know what's inside, and fake it til ya make it.

Okay, maybe that last bit wasn't Aaron's words of wisdom, but they were what Alex took away from it.

He played his part as the doting boyfriend to a T, dotted his i's and crossed his t's, and was proud of himself for his performance. Mary and Lucy wanted to play in his hair again while the adults talked and he let them, using it as an excuse to avoid conversation with everyone else in the family. It seemed to work for the most part, and he was only dragged in every so often when he was asked a question.

By eight, the girls had to go to bed, and Alex and Jefferson were supposed to head for Monticello for the weekend. Aside from while everyone was saying their goodbyes, the pair didn't speak until they got to Monticello. Even then, it was only long enough for Jefferson to show Alex his room. The problem was the after portion of it.

The tree still needed to be put up.

They endured one another's presence long enough to get it in its stand and water it, but they didn't decorate it. They parted ways after that and went to bed. It was too early for Alex's tastes, but he grabbed his book and waited an hour before stealing away into Jefferson's library. He hated that he liked this one more than Mrs. Jefferson's library. It was larger, nicer, cozier and well used. Like he had at Shadwell, Alex lit the fire and curled up with his book. Part of him wished he had brought the poems with him. He loved his spy novels and law books, but poems were a nice mental exercise in deciphering them differently from regular prose literature. The art of it was beautiful and so elegantly done that Alex had fallen in love with the craft the first time he read poetry. The library is where he stayed until the fire burned down, and that's when he noticed that Jefferson had joined him again.

Alex raised a brow at him in the swiftly dimming light, wondering what the man wanted. Why was he following Alex around again? Why couldn't he go away? Alex didn't want to spend more time with him than necessary. It was too easy to relax around the guy, and that wasn't safe. He'd learned the hard way that letting down his guard around people would end in something broken. Likely, Alex's heart and mind.

He broke the silence first, "Can I help you?"

Jefferson didn't answer at first. Alex couldn't decipher his expression, and he felt his own shift to guarded, wary of whatever attack Jefferson might throw his way. Never let his guard down. He couldn't. Jefferson's nose wrinkled briefly, and he still said nothing. The silence, the eye contact, it was making Alex fight back the urge to squirm, feeling like ants or slugs, maybe both were crawling under his skin. It was awful.

Nope. Alex wasn't sticking around for whatever this was.

"Right. I'm going to bed." He stood and strode towards the door, only for Jefferson to catch his sleeve before he made it. "What?" Alex snapped.

"Stay, have a drink with me." His voice was quiet, almost soft, and it left Alex feeling as if he might melt and cave in. It seemed warm, gentle and definitely welcoming. "We both could use one."

They held each other's gazes, neither blinking while Jefferson waited on a response and Alex fumbling around as he tried to think of one. Finally, Alex took Jefferson's hand and removed it from his sweater, turning and making for the door.

"Good night, Jefferson."

Alex thought he heard Jefferson murmur, "Good night, Alexander," but elected to ignore it.

 

\--

 

Thomas didn't know what he did wrong. He couldn't figure it out. Had he said something? Done something? Hamilton finally looked at peace, curled up with his book. The man was so rarely still...it was almost as shocking as seeing him asleep this morning. He had the chance to watch Hamilton while he read his book, Thomas quietly drinking his tea. The silence was peaceful, but it was likely because Hamilton didn't know he was there yet.

He hated the thought, but Hamilton was beautiful when he was still. An odd sort of peace about him...it was like the middle of winter when all was still, snow covered the ground and all that could be heard was the gentle tip-tip of snow hitting the ground. But, like snow and winter, there was the potential for the beauty to be deadly. Hamilton was like a sudden storm, a terrible, wonderful tempest that could and would destroy everything in its path. Thomas always felt like he was walking on thin ice around Hamilton. They were like fire and ice, oil and water. And they were so different that they became the same. Maybe that's what drew Thomas to him.

They were opposing forces that would never bend under the pressure of clashing together. That didn't mean that they wouldn't break, shatter into something that could never be fixed. Not that they were ever whole, to begin with. But watching Hamilton put up his guard, break, and put up his guard again was like the breaking and mending of a bone. It snapped and healed to be stronger and more resilient. Thomas wondered if Hamilton would ever break and then never mend.

It was a chilling thought. Hamilton could be bitter and intense at the worst of times, but if he had completely broken down? Thomas didn't want to think about what that would look like.

When Hamilton finally noticed him, they had a stare-off. Thomas wondered if there was a way to convey his concerns without it irritating Hamilton; the man was already on edge. He watched as Hamilton's shields came up, walling himself in against whatever paranoid delusion he had about Thomas' intentions. It hurt, only a little, but Thomas realized that this was the product of his own over dramatic scorn aimed at Hamilton and Hamilton's own history.

He tried to stop Hamilton, to ask him about earlier. Thomas wanted to grip his hand, feel the calluses under his own palm and fingertips, but the sweater would be safer.

"Stay, have a drink with me." Thomas kept his voice soft and gentle, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. Hamilton already seemed like he was on the verge of bolting. "We both could use one."

He watched Hamilton battle with himself, trying to find a way to say no and walk away. He found it, and Thomas could only stare helplessly as the man left him behind in the room that suddenly felt colder with the loss. Yes, like winter, Hamilton could turn on you at the drop of a hat and be a beautiful force the whole time.

"Good night, Alexander..."

 

\--

 

The weekend passed in much of the same way. Thomas and Hamilton avoided one another, awkward when they wound up in the same room without Thomas' family, with them. The only one who seemed to pick up on it was Elizabeth, and Thomas tended to avoid conversation with her when they were alone. In the end, Thomas made the excuse that he had a migraine and left Hamilton to fend for himself. He was and wasn't surprised to find that the man had hidden in Monticello's library the whole time, forgetting to eat or sleep. How the man was still alive was beyond him.

But now it's Monday, and they can hopefully get over their awkwardness around one another. Hamilton could fake the doting boyfriend just fine, but with how squirrely they were becoming around one another, it put the ruse in jeopardy. Thomas didn't know how to fix the problem.

Hamilton didn't seem to know either, or maybe he just didn't care.

Before they left for his mother's again, Thomas caught Hamilton before he was halfway out the door.

"Look, forget everything that happened the other night so we can get on with it. The two of us being jumpy around one another will do no one any good."

Hamilton rolled his eyes and ducked around Thomas to finish his trek to the car, "I'm not an idiot, Jefferson."

"Could have fooled me," he grumbled, jaw clenching. "Look, the deal's off if we're caught. I'll probably be kicked out of the family anyway, so at least I'd walk away from this with one victory. What could you walk away with if this fails, Hamilton?" Irritated, Thomas brushed passed him and made for his car. In an act of pettiness, he didn't turn on the heat, and he slapped Hamilton's hand away from it when he tried to fix it.

"Really Jefferson? I'm freezing my ass off here."

"You didn't have an ass to freeze off; stop complaining."


	7. The Mysterious Case of the Gingerbread Man's Missing Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, Shrek reference, heart-to-heart between Thomas and Elizabeth.  
> Face/Nameless family members.  
> Abused gingerbread men.  
> The Frosting Event of 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm behind but I have a portfolio and a presentation due tomorrow and Thursday so I'll be a day or two behind until I finish them.  
> Have fun with a weird chapter.

Every time Alex walked through the door it seemed, both of the girls would jump him and nearly knocked him over. Elizabeth made the offhand comment that it sounded like a herd of elephants running through the house when Jefferson’s car drove up. Alex thought it was sweet, and doted on them more than he did Jefferson. Not that the girls minded. They were excited to have a new playmate and Alex was happy to have someone low maintenance to care for. Jefferson certainly wasn’t, and Alex had only been at it for a few days. And speaking of the man, Alex had done everything he could to avoid crossing paths with him.

Well, he tried, anyway.

Mrs. Jefferson seemed to think it was a great day to work on family photos for the Christmas cards and had everyone in the dining room—Alex was adamant about not being included in the photo, but Mrs. Jefferson was more stubborn than Alex and won the decision. Jefferson teased him about losing an argument, “Cheer up, ‘Lexi, you know what that’s like.” What made the situation more uncomfortable than being in the photo at all was that Jefferson’s mother asked him to do something about Alex’s hair. He thought it had been fine; Alex had just tossed it into a low ponytail to get it out of the way. Mrs. Jefferson wanted Alex’s hair down so he had to stand there as Jefferson fiddled with it and wound up going on a hunt for a brush that could be used in Alex’s hair, dragging Alex behind him to the bathroom.

He hated to admit it, but it felt nice to have something playing around in his hair and brushing it. Alex always had a slight weakness for hands in his hair, and it was all he could do to hide how badly he wanted to melt under the touch. It turned out he failed spectacularly when he heard Jefferson snort quietly behind him. Alex opened his eyes to find Jefferson smirking at him in the mirror. Well there went hiding that chink in his armor.

“Note to self, shutting you up requires a head massage and hair brushing. I’ll have to use this more often” he taunted. Please don’t, Alex thought to himself. Sure, he liked it, but that didn’t mean that he wanted it to happen when he was at work. Work was a battleground, a place where he couldn’t let his guard down; Alex had too many enemies there for him ever to relax where they might see. Jefferson was one of those that had the potential to be dangerous. He was probably tied with Burr for how easily they could change loyalties and turn on someone. Madison was far more trustworthy, but he was about as cutthroat as Alex was. They were on neutral ground with one another most days. A tense level of professionalism that they never dropped.

They’d been friends before, sort of. More like good acquaintances by the end of it. They had even tried a date or two but quickly discovered that they were both too busy for anything more than a romp here or there. And then sometime after that, Madison met his wife, and well…

Alex had actually been excited for the man, in his own way. Madison always seemed so stoic, but when she was around, he was like a whole other person; he was smiling freely, laughing, physically affectionate…the Madisons were a perfect match for one another, and she had brought out his playful side. She had a way of lighting up the room and giving it life that James thrived on. Alex still swore that she was the one to plot a prank against Washington by sticky noting his office on his birthday.

Finally, Jefferson finished with his work on Alex’s hair and silently set the brush down as he left Alex in the bathroom. He was still nervous about joining them for the photo, but Mrs. Jefferson wouldn’t let him out of it. They had everyone together, Mrs. Jefferson with just her children, and then with only her grandchildren, and then the last set was of each couple. There was a sweet photo, a silly photo, and then one where they were kissing. The silly photos had Lucy’s husband scooping her up bridal style with her kicking her feet out and grinning happily. Another couple, Jefferson’s cousins, had the younger wife stuffing a pillow under her jacket with her wife looking shocked—that was how they broke it to the family that surprise, they were pregnant. When it was Alex and Jefferson’s turn, Jefferson used Alex as an armrest with Alex looking short and annoyed. The kiss photo was the problem. Alex wanted to use a Santa hat to hide their faces while they “kissed” so they wouldn’t actually have to, but Jefferson swiped it from him, tossed it onto his own head, and dipped Alex to kiss him. Alex yelped at the sudden motion and Jefferson’s lips on his, but he forced himself to play along and wrapped an arm around Jefferson’s neck for the staged kiss.

They both discretely wiped their mouths on their sleeves like teenagers to wipe off any hint of the other kissing them after their turn was over.

There were also things for the girls to make and paint. It wound up being Alex’s job to help them out, but he was more than happy to help them make a mess with paint and glue. They had a table mat to catch any of the mess, and he ended up painting an angel figurine while they did their ornaments. He didn’t realize that the girls had finished all of their projects and moved on to help their grandmother make the gingerbread for the gingerbread houses. Alex picked each color carefully, trying to remember what little John had taught him about painting, and then threw himself into his craft with the same narrow focus he used on his projects at work. He’d almost grabbed the girl angel, intent on painting her in the image of his mother, but it wasn’t like he could give it to her, or even put it at her grave. His town was…old fashioned when it came to graves. His mother couldn’t be buried in the church graveyard, but in a city plot. Alex didn’t have the money to give her much of a headstone, but there was at least something there.

Details, Alex loved details. A pretty crimson for the angel’s robes with a shimmery white for the fur trim, soft gold for the star patterns on the red robe, black hair, even darker skin and eyes. He wound up modeling the angel after Jefferson as best he could and figured that he would give it to Mrs. Jefferson as a gift. If anyone would appreciate something like this, she would.

He didn’t know that dinner had come and gone until he finished several hours after he started, not coming up for air to use the restroom or eat the entire time he worked. Although, he later found out that someone had put a small bowl of grapes next to him that he didn’t remember eating. When he finished, he carefully set the figurine and his paintbrush down, massaging his shoulders, neck, and wrists to rub out the stiffness. Alex looked up when a mug was set in front of him, and it was like déjà vu of a few nights before. Jefferson had brought him tea again, and Alex said nothing as he gave a short, grateful nod and sipped at it. His enemy dropped down into the chair next to him and carefully pulled the paper plate the angel was sitting on to dry closer to him so he could get a better look at it.

“I didn’t know you could paint,” he mused.

“I can’t, or well, don’t. John showed me a little, but I don’t do it as a hobby or anything. It’s more for whenever something comes up; I’m better if it’s for a room in the apartment or something.” The heat of the mug felt heavenly on his aching hands, and he sighed contentedly as he relaxed back into the chair.

Jefferson’s nose wrinkled at the sound of John’s name, just a twitch, but he hummed and pushed the plate back to Alex.

“I thought about taking the female one and making her look like my mother, but I decided to make one for yours instead. She’ll appreciate it more, I assume.” Alex smiled slightly before realizing what he’d said and forced his walls back up. Dammit.

Jefferson opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the girls running into the room.

“Alex! You haven’t made a gingerbread house yet. You have to! Lucy and I made the cookies for them.” Alex was grateful for the interruption and grinned, pushing his chair out to lean over into her space.

“Oh really? I might eat them before I can put together a house. Hope that’s okay,” he teased.

Lucy huffed, “You can’t eat them! You’re supposed to put frosting on them and put it together and—ooh, that’s pretty.”

Alex followed her admiring gaze to the angel he’d finished painting and felt his face warming. “I’m glad you like him. He’s for your grand-mère, but shhh, don’t tell her!”

The girls nodded seriously and made a zipping motion over their lips. “But who is he?”

“He’s your Uncle Thomas…sort of. I can’t really do much about the hair with how the angel was cast. I tried, anyway.”

“You made Uncle Tommy pretty,” Mary pointed out. “Uncle Tommy isn’t supposed to be pretty; you are.”

Jefferson scoffed, “Excuse you, but I am very pretty.”

Mary deadpanned, “No you’re not.”

“Rude.”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

“I retract my statement. You’re the favorite niece.”

Lucy huffed and tugged at Jefferson’s sleeve, “What about me?”

“You are my favorite niece too. I can have two favorite nieces.”

Alex snorted and pinched Jefferson’s arm, “Someone is in the doghouse now.”

“Alex, why are you saying Uncle Thomas is in a doghouse?”

“Well Mary, when someone is in trouble, you say that they’re in the doghouse. Like, you’re in so much trouble that you get to sleep outside with the dogs.” The girls giggled at that and reached up to pat Jefferson’s hair like he was a dog.

“Thanks, Pipsqueak.”

“You know, your expression makes that insult completely worth it.”

Mary seemed to remember why they were in there and started tugging at Alex and Jefferson’s sleeves, wanting them to follow her into the kitchen. The two men obliged her, and when they were given their supplies, they set up at the breakfast bar with the girls sitting across from them, chattering away about their day when they weren’t around the two men, and recounting all of the “good parts” to them.

Alex didn’t catch Jefferson’s growing smirk until it was too late and he had a dab of frosting on his nose. He went cross-eyed trying to see the blob, but then his narrowed eyes shot up to Jefferson’s, the girls and Mrs. Jefferson—when did she come in?—giggling the whole time. “Really?”

“Definitely,” came the smug reply.

Oh. He was going to pay for that. Alex stuck his tongue out and managed to lick off what was on the tip of his nose, but then used his finger to wipe the rest off and popped his finger into his mouth to rid himself of it. He didn’t blink as he stared Jefferson down, a smug smile spreading when he watched as Jefferson seemed a bit flustered for a second, eyes trained on Alex’s mouth. How far could he take it?

Still smirking, he squirted a bit of the frosting out of the tube and pressed it to Jefferson’s lips, watching as the man had little choice but to do as Alex had done. One of the younger cousins came in and saw them, faking a gag before their brother quietly chanted “kiss, kiss, kiss.” So, Alex, still out to make Jefferson pay for the frosting on his nose, dabbed a bit onto Jefferson’s lips and kissed it away.

Alex had never seen the man look so stunned and off-kilter. Totally worth having to kiss the asshole.

With that done, he wiped his hands on a napkin, tossed his hair back up into an elastic, and went back to putting together the gingerbread house. He flashed a grin at the girls and took one of the gingerbread men, making it dance from one leg to the other and throwing his voice to that of the gingerbread man in Shrek before dancing it right up to his mouth to bite off an arm, making a tiny screaming noise as he chewed.

Lucy and the teenagers burst into laughter, more at Mary’s horrified and insulted look than Alex’s childish display. She cried out, “You weren’t supposed to eat him!”

“Too late. I missed dinner and needed food, and your baking was too good to pass up. Wonderfully done, by the way.” The girl didn’t cease her scandalized look and grumbling for the next ten minutes.

 

\--

 

    Thomas was hardly surprised to find Hamilton still working on whatever project he’d taken up with the girls. Once again, he went off to find something to sneak Hamilton in the hopes that the man would eat unconsciously eat something. He was right—when was he ever wrong? Don’t answer that. He stayed and watched the man work a few minutes before joining his family for a while. Thomas was supposed to be there for them, not to watch Hamilton get caught up in his work again. As amazing as it was to watch Hamilton in his element, Thomas had other things to worry about.

Time with his mother and Elizabeth were more important to him than his anti-social coworker.

The thing he dreaded happening most came sooner than he had anticipated and Elizabeth dragged him off to share coffee in thermoses and an evening stroll. He knew it would happen eventually, but that didn’t mean he was ready for it yet. Thomas knew she’d have a few choice—read: blunt—words and he knew he wouldn’t want to hear it.

Donning their coats, Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Thomas’ electric blue coat—“do you own anything that isn’t flashy?”—and they headed out the kitchen door for the fields.

“So, you and Alexander…”

“Me and Alexander?”

“You complain about him from the day you meet, and you two are suddenly lovey-dovey and expect us to believe it.” She cradled the tumbler in her hands and sipped carefully from it. “Mom might buy it, our siblings might buy it, but I know you better than that Thomas. You claim to hate the man, yet you talk about him more than I have ever heard out of you about anyone else, even your girlfriends and boyfriends from ages ago. And now, you’re conveniently dating him for the holidays. What are you both getting out of it?”

Thomas sighed heavily. Okay, his mother wasn’t the one he had to worry about finding out; Elizabeth was the shrewdest of them all. At this point, she’d made up her mind on the matter, and Thomas knew he wouldn’t get away with lying to her about it. “I’m getting Ma off my back for the holidays about not having someone while everyone else in our family is starting families. Hamilton is getting my support on a few documents he wants to be pushed through the house.”

“I’m not off starting a family,” she countered.

“Yeah, but you’re in school and said you wanted to wait until you finished before you tried to start any relationships. Besides, you implied once that you were not interested in anyone.”

Elizabeth hesitated, sliding her hand into her pocket as she slowed her pace. How to respond to that? “There’s a nice girl in the dorm next to mine, and then there’s someone named Taylor in my speech class. They’re gender fluid, but now and then they’ll start the day with “he/him today, please.” Both are really sweet and intelligent.”

“Well, I want their full names and their license number so I can run a background check on them,” he teased.

Elizabeth snorted and playfully shoved his arm, “Shut it, geezer. I don’t think they’d go for me anyway. I don’t exactly cut a great impression in class or in the hallway.”

Thomas didn’t like hearing that. This was his sister, his sister who was brilliant beyond reason and an amazing person. “If they don’t see how great you are, mistakes and awkwardness included, then they don’t deserve you.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Thomas shifted his cup to the other hand and wrapped his arm around her, “But you’ll find the right someones eventually. They’ll see how great you are and your awkwardness will just be another charm to them, and when they see the truth of it, they’ll be there to support you through it.”

She huffed a laugh and leaned into him, “You need the same too with your anxiety.”

“Eh, you deserve the happiness more than I do. I’m a great man, but I’m not a good one. You? You’re my little star.” He rubbed her shoulder a second before letting her go when he sensed her slowly tensing.

“Back to you and Alexander; stop getting off topic.” Thomas snorted at that and waited in silence as she tried to come up with the right words to continue. “You don’t actually hate him, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” He took a long swig of his coffee, stalling until he couldn’t avoid it any longer. “He’s not a bad guy. He works hard, he had a rough start as a kid, but I don’t know the details with how private he is, he’s focused and dedicated to what he cares about—a bit like you actually, relentless when he wants to be—and he’s passionate…even if I think some of the stuff he’s for is asinine. About half of what we argue over is from me starting something to rile him up and piss him off. It’s so easy to get him going. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t gotten into it with me or someone else here.”

“Probably because he has something big on the line for this arrangement.”

Thomas gave her time to continue, but when he didn’t, he knew she was baiting him into asking her what he didn’t want to know the answer to. “And your thoughts?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hamilton would agree with you on that.” They shared a grin.

“You’re also blind, as is he, and you both need to get your heads out of your asses. Even I can see that.” She kicked at a pinecone as they passed it, “If mom finds out, she’ll be crushed. Alexander has the success of his projects on the line, but you have mom’s heart. If you blow it, and it wouldn’t take much…I don’t want to think about what it would do to her.”

“I know.”

“Is you lying to her to keep her from trying to make sure you’re happy worth that risk?”

He knew she was right.

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re going to continue, though, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can back out now.”


	8. Deck The Halls, Kick Your Lover In The Bal--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poetry is read.  
> Cold feet are forcibly smothered in wool.  
> Decorations are put up.  
> That was a horribly made bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this chapter.  
> Also, Decorations was supposed to be today's prompt and the one that I was SUPPOSED to post yesterday was Christmas Lights. Whoops. I'll just swap them out.  
> This is yesterday's chapter and I'll finish today's before I go to bed tonight. Hopefully.

Thomas and Elizabeth eventually made it back to the house and joined the others in the library, and they found a slightly disgruntled, but mostly uncomfortable, Hamilton seated in the window seat on the outside of everyone. There was that book of poems on the seat next to him, abandoned and probably the reason the man was fighting off his irritation; he couldn’t read in peace.

 _I feel that_ , Thomas thought to himself, amused. He and Elizabeth shared a look, an unspoken agreement that their conversation would stay between them—to which Thomas was eternally grateful to have a sister like her—and then left her side to hop onto the window seat by Hamilton. Hamilton seemed almost relieved to have Thomas back in the room, even if they had been dancing around one another for the past few nights. Thomas took a chance and reached over to tap on the cover of the book, and then nodded. It was a good choice.

Hamilton’s eyes darted between Thomas’ and the book, and it took him a second to understand what Thomas meant. A rare, genuine smile broke out. Talking about books: safe topic. He let his attention shift to his family, all sitting on the couches and chairs, or even the floor, and had an idea.

Picking up the book, he held it out to Hamilton, whose expression twisted into confusion as he accepted it. The moment it was in Hamilton’s hands, Thomas was on his feet and tugging Hamilton along with him. He plopped down onto the rug in front of the fire and patted his lap. Hamilton looked dubiously between Thomas and his lap—was that a blush? Couldn’t be—but he slowly did as instructed. Thomas wrapped his arms around Hamilton’s middle and tapped on the cover of the book again.

He leaned in and murmured to Hamilton, “Go ahead and read if you’d like, but at least stay here. They won’t mind if you’re not listening; I did the same thing growing up…still do.” Hamilton tensed and didn’t relax in Thomas’ hold for the next five or so minutes, but Thomas felt himself relaxing with a warm body pressed against him. His chin lightly rested on Hamilton’s head—he knows he heard a soft huff of laughter—as he watched and listened to his family chatter. The girls gravitated over to them again and started pointing at the book Hamilton was reading, asking him about it.

He seemed to be startled out of his trance, blinking at the girls sluggishly as his brain caught up with what they were asking him. “Oh, uh, it’s a book of poems by French writers. It’s old if the cover hasn’t given it away. This one is by Christine de Pizan.”

“Can you read one to us?”

“Do you know French?”

“Not much.”

“Give me a second, so I can try and switch this to English for you. It’s gorgeous in its intended language so, it might not sound the same and—” he had begun to ramble, and Thomas squeezed him slightly.

“’Lexi, it’s fine if it’s not perfect.”

Hamilton nodded slowly and scanned the page a moment before he spoke up for the girls to hear him translate Ballad XIX. It was a slow process as he translated to ensure it maintained the meaning. The poem was a sad one, and Thomas couldn’t help hugging Hamilton closer to himself, eyes lifting to watch as a few of his family members had stopped to listen to Hamilton read the poem.

When he finished, Elizabeth was the first to speak, “That was…depressing. Why did she write that?”

    Hamilton shrugged, “I’m not sure. I don’t analyze poems much and haven’t in years, so it would take time to decipher the meaning, especially because I’m trying to balance it between two languages. If I remember right, though, she had a rough life, but she managed to write her way out of debt left behind by her deceased husband.” There was an unspoken “I admire for her that” in his tone.

“You translated that, yes?” Thomas’ mother asked. “What other languages do you know?”

His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled and Thomas could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “A lot? My native languages—loosely—are English, Spanish, French, and Creole? I’ve picked up on German and Italian while working for Washington. And I know enough Arabic to survive and then some if I were tossed in a country that spoke it and told to figure it out, so I’m sure I could pick it up quickly if I made an effort to do so. Reading it would be a different story, however, but I could definitely speak it competently in less than a month. I just…sort of absorb information easily.”

“Creole, are you from a region in L—”

Hamilton interrupted Mrs. Jefferson, “I am from an area where most can use two to four languages; I’m sorry, but that’s all I can say right now.” There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone processed him interrupting the matriarch of the family. One just didn’t do that to Mrs. Jefferson. Even she seemed surprised, but it was gone as soon as it came. Thomas saw the realization of what she’d asked and how Hamilton had reacted the last time she tried to ask him about his past.

“Alexander, sweetie, I apologize; I had forgotten our earlier discussion.” Hamilton gave a hesitant nod of acceptance, but Thomas could feel how Hamilton was tensed and ready to take flight. He was sure that if he looked around at his face, Thomas would see Hamilton’s walls again, raised and heavily guarded.

The tense silence had lasted another minute before Mary tapped on Hamilton’s knee, “Can you read us another?”

Lucy parted from her husband and stood, “Maybe tomorrow. It’s passed your bedtime, both of you.” The girls, of course, put up a pitiful fight and Hamilton took mercy on them and offered to put them to bed and read one of their books to them instead.

When the three had left, all eyes turned to Thomas.

“What was all that about?” one of the cousins asked, looking up from her cell phone.

Thomas let out his own sigh and slumped a little as his eyes rested on the door Hamilton just went through. “He’s…his life has not been easy. It’s been hell. He’s very private about it, and no one bothers to ask because of how tight lipped he is. Most have learned that and respect it. Usually.”

“Do you know what happened?” another asked.

“No, I don’t, and I doubt he’d ever tell me if I asked.” He and Elizabeth shared a look, knowing why Hamilton wouldn’t.

 

\--

 

After everyone had gone to their rooms that night, Alex and Jefferson said few words to one another as they prepared for bed. Alex took his medicine, Jefferson drilling him about what those were, scribbling a little note down after Alex relented and told him. As they crawled into bed, Jefferson stopped halfway in and frowned at Alex.

“Is…that my shirt?”

“Yeah, sorry. I thought I repacked my night shirts when we left your place this morning and I…well, I didn’t and I doubted you wanted me running around shirtless all night.” Alex didn’t see a problem with it as he burrowed under the covers and tugged the large pile of blankets he had insisted on having up to his nose. “It’ll suck when I wake at three in the morning, twisted up in this mammoth sized shirt.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t wear it. Do you not have any undershirts you could have used?” Jefferson scowled as he yanked the blankets up and rolled away from Alex to take most of them purposefully—he didn’t even need them and complained that he was too hot at night.

“Nope.” Alex, shivering when his polar bear clad bottom was exposed, scrambled to lay closer to Jefferson to get at least some heat. “Please share, or I’ll freeze to death and then you’ll be boyfriendless and accused of neglect and tossed in prison for letting me die of hypothermia and—”

“Ugh, shut up.” Jefferson rolled back over, relinquishing some of the blankets. “You’re a clingy koala at night anyway. It’s not like you’ll turn into a popsicle in the night with you hanging onto me like I’m some damn tree and stealing my body heat.”

“If you would just lemme have the blankets, we wouldn’t have that problem.” Alex didn’t move away as he stayed pressed against Jefferson, but with his back to him. He was still shivering, and it was annoying the hell out of Jefferson.

“Will you stop that racket over there?”

“I’m dying of hypothermia, and you’re annoyed at my teeth chattering as I freeze to death. Where are your priorities, Jefferson?” He heard Jefferson mumble something about wanting to sleep. Was Jefferson back talking him? Just for that, Alex uncurled himself enough to slip his feet over to Jefferson’s side of the bed to slide up the bottoms of his pajama pant legs, planting them on his warm calves. The squawk had Alex shaking, and he told Jefferson later that he was shivering, not laughing.

His enemy growled and jumped out of bed, rifling through his dresser drawers until he found a pair of wool socks. Alex peeked over his shoulder to watch Jefferson huffing and puffing as he searched for the socks, trying to stifle a laugh. This was hilarious, and freezing was worth watching how irritated the man was. Until Jefferson yanked the covers off of Alex and sat on his legs to hold Alex down while he put the socks on. Alex flailing around beneath him was more from how ticklish his feet were rather than Jefferson squishing him. Alex, with some concern, saw how Jefferson smirked at the realization but was relieved when the man rolled off of him and back onto the bed. Jefferson yanked the covers up forcefully enough that it nearly pulled them away from where they were tucked in under the mattress, grumbling the whole time about damn immigrants who he wishes would freeze to death, even as he practically wrapped himself around Alex.

“Hold still, shut up, and go to sleep you asshole,” he growled. It only made Alex giggle until Jefferson jabbed his stomach with a finger. “I said to shut it, pipsqueak.”

Alex couldn’t fall asleep, even after Jefferson had finally let go and rolled away from him to chase his own rest. He was still too energized and had to force himself not to fidget. By about one am, Alex gave up and crawled out of bed carefully. He didn’t feel like reading at the moment and didn’t have any inspiration for writing either. Alex wandered the halls silently, trying to come up with something, and stopped at the attic door. They’d only put up the tree; no one had put up a wreath or garland or scented candles.

He may not have belonged in their family activities, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something.

So, Alex padded up the stairs and went through the boxes to find other Christmas decorations. Five boxes and tubs found themselves on the sitting room floor by the time he gathered everything he wanted to use. Alex started with the things he could reach, like hanging the wreath on the door, laying out the garland and lights on the mantles and up the staircase railing. It needed to be just right; he couldn’t ruin their atmosphere by getting it wrong. Wrong meant awkward, and things were awkward enough without him putting a candle in the wrong place. Room by room, he went through putting up one type of decoration before starting the cycle again with the next item. Wire ribbon was shaped into a…well, it was supposed to be a bow, but it didn’t turn out right.

It took him a few minutes of trying to fiddle with it before he gave up. That would be one thing he couldn’t fix. So he grabbed a poinsettia flower with the ties on the back to anchor it to something and used it to pin the pieces of the bow together. It was far from perfect, and Alex still didn’t like how it turned out, but it was the best he could do. He hung it on the inside of the front door, scowling at it like it had personally offended him by saying something about his mother.

“Well that’s the shittiest thing I think you’ve ever made, and I’ve seen the bills you’ve tried to pass.” Alex nearly came out of his skin and whirled around to find Jefferson on the third step of the staircase, but the motion caused him to slip in the socks Jefferson forced him to wear, and he found himself on his ass before he knew what hit him. “Aw, falling for me already?”

“In your dreams, piss off.” Alex pushed himself up and rubbed at his ass with a grimace. “Did you have to sneak up on me?”

“Yes, because I needed to see the look of shock and fear on your face for being caught sneaking around.” Jefferson finished his descent down the stairs and passed Alex to take the bow down. “Here, go to the sitting room, I’ll show you how to make these so that you don’t make the whole house look like a toddler put it together.”

Rather than starting a fight over the insult, Alex did as he was told and dropped onto the couch heavily. He wasn’t pouting. He wasn’t. When Jefferson joined him a moment later, more ribbon and another flower in hand, Alex took what Jefferson gave him and followed his instructions carefully. His eyes darted between the bow Jefferson was redoing and his own and Alex was more proud of this bow than the first, although it still didn’t look as nice as Jefferson’s.

“Better, but you could use more practice, Hamilton. Maybe you should focus on the small stuff rather than try to make my mother’s house look like something out of Better Homes and Gardens. It won’t look magazine worthy if you can’t make a damn bow.” Jefferson stood and hung his over the mantle and then gestured for Alex to hang his on the door like the first one.

Alex hesitated to come back into the sitting room when he saw Jefferson on the floor, going through the boxes Alex had brought down. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t have started this mess and holy shit the place was going to look terrible by the end, and Mrs. Jefferson would be unhappy and the girls would be disappointed and—

“Hamilton, I know I’m gorgeous, but stop staring and get your ass over here so we can finish this and get back to bed.”

“Why are you here?” he snapped, trudging to the boxes and sitting across from Jefferson.

“I woke up when my ass was exposed to the elements because some pint-sized idiot didn’t pull the covers back up when he got out of bed.” Jefferson pulled out a neatly wrapped bundle of lights and leaned over towards the wall to plug it in, checking for duds. “I originally wanted to bless you out for letting me freeze, but your terrible sense of home design was more urgent.”

“I don’t do stuff like this. Ever.” Alex fiddled with a bag of cotton meant to be snow to tuck into the tree, garland, or wherever, pulling it apart carefully. He couldn’t help it that he didn’t know what he was doing; Alex had told Jefferson that he never really decorated for Christmas, didn’t have a reason to. It wasn’t his fault that this was technically the first time he’d really done anything substantial. “At least I tried—and to be honest, I was freaking out over everything I was doing. I didn’t want to screw it up, and it ruin anything for you guys.”

Jefferson looked up from the bundle of lights he had been expecting. Alex couldn’t tell what he was thinking until the older man smiled slightly, “I know that, but you’re going to do it right, or I’m sending you back to bed. As for screwing it up, you’re terrible, but you’re not terrible enough to ruin our Christmas.”

Alex scoffed at the thought, “And you think you could make me go to bed?”

“Honey, you’re lighter than a twig; it wouldn’t be a challenge.” They glared at one another before dropping their eyes to go back to their tasks. There was peaceful silence broken only by the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. Things were sorted and put in place, both correcting the other if something looked off, and the bickering had stopped for the moment. When they finished, Alex and Jefferson looked around at their work and smiled at one another.

“Not bad, shrimp.”

“Same to you twig legs.”

Jefferson’s smile shifted to a smirk, “You’ve seen my legs; do you really think that’s accurate?”

“Oh, did I say legs? I meant dick.”

“Hamilton, that doesn’t even make sense.”

 “That’s because you lack imagination.”

They set about cleaning up the boxes and paper that had been wrapped around breakables. The exhaustion finally caught up with Alex, and he felt himself slowing down, movements loose and weak until he started to nod off. Even moving around to clean wasn’t keeping him awake at this point. He thought he caught Jefferson rolling his eyes and didn’t object when Jefferson really did pick him up like he was nothing and cart him off to bed.

 

\--

 

    The guy really was too light; his mother was right. Hamilton needed to eat more and eat the right stuff. He wouldn’t, probably, but the guy needed to take better care of himself. That, or get a babysitter that’ll force feed him or throw him into a shower when he forgets that there’s life outside of his projects.

Coming down the stairs, no matter how irritated and exhausted he was, turned out to be completely worth it from the teenager-caught-trying-to-sneak-back-into-the-house look Hamilton was giving him. Hamilton falling on his ass, however, was and unintentional bonus. After the bickering was over, Thomas had a chance to appreciate Hamilton’s efforts. He’d tried, at least. There were a few things that could be adjusted, but otherwise, he had done well-ish for someone who had never done this before. Thomas was actually…well, thankful. It was a nice gesture considering their small argument the other night about Hamilton feeling like he was intruding on the Jeffersons’ moment. He figured that this was Hamilton’s way of making up for it.

But back to Thomas hating how light the man was. He didn’t sleep enough, eat enough, or take enough breaks, even when he wasn’t at work. Hamilton had been known to work until he collapsed wherever he was, although it didn’t happen often. Thomas figured that this was just another example of that. Hamilton was trying to pack the bubble wrap up into the boxes and seemed to be wilting like a flower in the summer. The long-suffering sigh and over dramatic eye roll were more for show than anything as he scooped him up to take him back to bed.

It was only after Thomas went back downstairs to clean up the last of the boxes that he joined Hamilton and finally got the sleep he’d been dreaming about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex speaks a billion languages and I will fight you on this.  
> I'm kinda on the fence about it because I feel like I have the boys bouncing back and forth too quickly and easily for this early on in the story????  
> What do you guys think?


	9. Christmas Lights, The Stars In Your Ugly Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is an asshole.  
> Thomas is an asshole right back.  
> Thomas makes a tiny dick joke.  
> Alex worries about receding hairlines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I goofed and switched the Christmas Lights and Christmas Decorations prompts, here's, finally, the Christmas Lights prompt.  
> Christmas Caroling was supposed to be yesterday and today is Secret Santa/White Elephant Gifts, but I may do something different as I hadn't put much into the story that would lead up to a Secret Santa thing. Whoops.

Mrs. Jefferson was delighted at the sight that greeted her downstairs in the morning. They usually waited a few more days before putting the decorations up, but this was a sweet gesture. When Alex finally crawled out of bed and came downstairs, still in his polar bear pajamas and Jefferson’s shirt, she accosted him in a bone-crushing hug the moment he stepped into the kitchen. Alex stiffened, emitting a startled squeak in the back of his throat at the attack. He didn’t return the embrace until she swatted the back of his head and told him to hug his momma, much to the enjoyment of Jefferson who was leaning against the counter with his coffee in hand. Alex didn’t realize that he’d melted into the warmth of her arms until she finally pulled away and Alex nearly lost his balance.

Regaining his composure, Alex made for Jefferson and smirked, standing on his toes to kiss his cheek and swipe the coffee mug from his hands. “Oh, darling, you didn’t have to but thanks.” The teenage cousins snickered from the breakfast bar at Jefferson’s affronted grunt of protest; Alex ignored Jefferson’s complaint.

“Alexander, thank you for doing this. My boy said you were up late into the night doing this for us and that was so thoughtful.”

Alex smiled sheepishly and gestured to Jefferson with his stolen mug, “Thomas fixed up my mistakes and then apparently carried me to bed because I don’t remember how I got there.”

“I did carry you and Ma’s right; you need to eat more. I can sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes with a quarter the weight.” Alex didn’t understand what that meant. Sack of potatoes?

“What do potatoes have to do with…carrying me around?” He frowned, “Is that a Southernism that I don’t know about or…?”

Mrs. Jefferson laughed and passed Alex a plate with pancakes on it, “When someone is lifting something like that, they literally sling it over their shoulder. The expression is mostly about the motion and act itself than the food or your weight.”

“Oh.” Southerners. A bunch of weirdos, all of them. Why couldn’t Jefferson just say that? It would be so much easier and waste half the oxygen. Alex plopped down into a chair at the bar next to the cousins and tucked into the pancakes. Then, he let out a pleased hum that sounded more like a moan. “Maman, there’s chocolate in this. Thomas, it’s over between us, I’m marrying your mother.”

The woman tittered and made a shooing motion at Alex, “Oh hush you, flatterer.”

Meanwhile, Jefferson was staring at Alex wide-eyed and Alex didn’t bother trying to figure out what that meant. Yes, he was a morning person, but that didn’t mean that he was ready to start analyzing everything; it was too early for that. So he focused on his chocolate pancakes, continuing to hum happily every so often, much to the amusement of Mrs. Jefferson and Elizabeth.

“You’re awfully easy to please, Alexander.” Elizabeth was smiling slightly, fingers tapping against her legs as she hopped up onto the counter. “That’s good because Tommy is lazy and is probably the worst lover to have ever walked this earth.”

Alex choked on his pancakes and Jefferson started coughing after his replacement coffee went down wrong. Alex wondered if she hadn’t thought about what she had said before it came out but the smug look on her face said that she knew exactly what she meant and that it was on purpose. After he had managed to swallow his pancake, he ran a hand over his face, turning bright red in embarrassment and wishing the floor would open up and eat him alive.

“Elizabeth, not in front of Maman, please, I’m begging you,” he whined.

“Oh, so are you saying that Thomas is a good lover?”

“Elizabeth, I love you, but I will kill you.” She didn’t seem phased by Jefferson’s threat and giggled quietly as she left the kitchen.

One of the teenagers at Alex’s left piped up with, “Well, is he?”

Alex didn’t think he could finish enjoying his pancakes, and Jefferson looked much the same with his coffee. “I—uh, I don’t think that’s appropriate for the breakfast table.”

“Oh come on; don’t be a pansy ass.” That got the kid a scolding look from his grandmother.

Alex looked to Jefferson for help, but Jefferson had decided to seek revenge for Alex swiping his coffee from him underhandedly. The smirk grew as he took a casual swig of his coffee, “Well? Go ahead, ‘Lexi. What do you think about me?” His next hope of getting out of this was walking out of the kitchen, muttering that she didn’t want to hear this about her son and his boyfriend. Well shit.

“I—well I guess that he’s—um, I-I don’t—I’m not talking about my love life with a couple of minors. Your parents would string me up.” There. Matter settled. Except that, it wasn’t because Jefferson was the biggest asshole to have ever cursed this planet with his presence. Alex didn’t notice that he’d come up behind him and seized up when Jefferson leaned in from behind him.

“’Lexi, they hear worse in boarding school.” Alex could hear the smug asshole’s smirk in his voice. “You don’t have to give details, just make sure they know that I’m better than anyone else you’ve had in your life.”

“I refuse to answer anyone’s questions about what we do in private.” Because they didn’t do anything exciting in private.

“Because I’m that good and you’re that kinky and embarrass about it; they get it.” Jefferson, King of the Assholes, laughed with his cousins at how red Alex was.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Alex was relieved when he was finally able to escape the kitchen to shower. However, the situation was made worse when Jefferson walked into the bathroom, not caring that Alex was still showering, and started brushing his teeth and taking his medicine for the day. Alex had tried to get him to leave, but Jefferson refused because it was “his” bathroom. He watched in horror as Jefferson decided to set the lid down on the toilet and sit with a book, waiting on Alex to finish in the shower.

“What the hell did I do in my past life to deserve this?”

Without missing a beat or looking up from his book, Jefferson replied with, “Probably found a way to annoy the hell out of me. I’m cursed with you being a pain in my ass for the rest of eternity.”

“I should give you a reason to call me a pain in the ass.”

“Are you propositioning me for sex?”

“What? Ew. Hell no. I wouldn’t touch you with a seven and a half foot pole.”

He finally did look up from his book to meet Alex’s eyes, with Alex having popped his head out from behind the shower curtain to argue with him. “Hamilton, don’t exaggerate. You’re a small man and probably have a small d—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Alex flicked water at Jefferson, who immediately stood, grabbed the glass by the sink and filled it with water—and then promptly strode to the shower curtain to splash the cold water onto Alex, who yelped at the sudden change in temperatures. “Thomas Asshat Jefferson, I swear that when I get out of this shower that you’re—”

“You’ll what pint-size, kick me in the shin? Can you even reach that high?” Alex wanted nothing more to kick him in the mouth to shut him up from being such a piece of shit. Reaching out, Alex snatched the glass away and set it on the ledge that held the bar of soap, and then yanked Jefferson into the shower as he stepped out and grabbed his towel.

“Whoops. Are you alright there Tommy? You uh…got a little something on your face. Right about there.”

Thomas’ murderous look should have killed an entire army, but it only made Alex feel like he’d made the right decision. Priceless. He wished he had his phone with him to snap a picture of this whole mess for when he needed a pick-me-up. The older man managed to climb out of the shower, his sleep shirt and sweatpants clinging to him in ways that should be illegal, which were the reason Alex was distracted long enough for Jefferson to get his hands on him.

“You little shit; you’re going to pay for that.” Which is how Alex found himself slung over Jefferson’s shoulder again as he carted him to bed and threw him on it. “After I shower and dry off. Move from that spot, and I’m locking you in the closet until we leave for the Christmas market tonight.”

“Kinky,” Alex quoted in his best French accent. If it were possible, Jefferson was even more pissed off, and Alex had the pleasure of watching him storm into the bathroom, not bothering with the door as he stripped down to get into the shower. Alex, as shameless as he was when no one was looking, didn’t bother to hide how he leaned over a little to get a better look at Jefferson before he disappeared behind the shower curtain.

He wondered if Jefferson would actually lock him in a closet for the day. His family wouldn’t allow it, so he didn’t think Jefferson would follow through with the threat. But still, he wondered what would happen if he actually listened. Pfft, the man would probably shit himself in shock and embarrassment because I’m still laying here in only a towel, Alex thought.

To say Jefferson was only surprised would take away from the entire picture. Alex decided to stay exactly where he’d landed, although he tugged the towel a little higher up his legs. And Jefferson, who had forgotten his clothes again in his anger and frustration, was wrapped in a towel too and surprised that Alex was still there. And still very naked, sans a carefully placed towel. His eyes were wide as he looked from top to bottom of the naked Puerto Rican in his bed.

“I—I um—where—where the hell are your clothes, Hamilton?” Hearing Jefferson stutter was one of the best things that had happened all day.

“What? You told me not to move, so I didn’t.”

“The one time you listen to me…” Jefferson tore his eyes away from Alex and hurried to put his own clothes on. “Please for the love of all that’s holy, put something on.”

“Why? Do I look that irresistible?”

Jefferson scoffed, “Too short and loud for my tastes. Now put your clothes on.”

“No.”

“Hamilton—ugh, fine. Freeze and catch a cold, see if I care.”

 

\--

 

Thomas was not expecting that. He just knew Alex would dress and run out of the bedroom before Thomas could stop him, yet here he was, laying on Thomas’ bed in nothing but a towel and it was all Thomas could do not to pounce him. His broken sentences stemmed from his brain short-circuiting and not knowing how to reboot the system to get his mouth working correctly. No. Don’t think of mouths. Bad.

He really needed to escape that…whatever the hell that is.

 

\--

 

The rest of the day was filled with everyone finishing up the last of the decorating that Hamilton and Thomas couldn’t do in the wee hours of the morning. By the end of it, everyone was piling into the family cars to be taken into town, and Thomas caught Hamilton rolling his eyes subtly at the fact that the three cars that would be taking them all had drivers so that the families could relax and chat. Thomas hadn't been able to look Hamilton in the eye since that morning.

He supposed he had that coming. Thomas had tormented Hamilton at breakfast, so it was only fair that Hamilton got him back. Although the water thing was uncalled for. Thomas was sure he'd eventually look back on it and laugh at how ridiculous the whole thing was, but for the moment, he was still slightly annoyed. His dark eyes darted to Hamilton, seated across from him and talking with a few of Thomas' older cousins. The poor dears; they must have asked him about his stance on the job market or something because the man was talking animatedly and it was a wonder he hadn't accidentally slapped himself. His cousins looked ready to duct tape Hamilton's mouth shut; Thomas shared the sentiment.

"'Lexi, are all of your sweaters this large on you? I could buy you some that fit a little better." Hamilton stopped talking, hands frozen in the air as he turned his attention to Thomas.

"Sorry, what?"

Thomas pointed at Hamilton's pale blue and black sweater, "All of your sweaters swallow you up; I could replace them if you want to go shopping tomorrow."

Defensively, Hamilton hugged himself, "Absolutely not...'sides, I stole this one from Laf. It's pretty on him, but he's not always here in America so...I don't know if he knows that I have it."

"He's a smart man; he knows that you have it. You could probably text him, and he'd say something like, "but it made you so happy, Alexander! I could not possibly take that away!""  Thomas was pleased to hear Hamilton snorting at his impersonation of their friend.

"That was so spot on that it was scary."

"You've complained about me being dramatic so here is one of the perks." The pair grinned and one of the younger cousins, the same one from last time they were gooey, gagged at them.

"I swear, watching you two is giving me a cavity." They received two men flipping them off before said men started laughing. "Disgusting," they muttered.

"Oh, speaking of Lafayette!" Thomas beamed at Hamilton, "He's coming next week for a day or two. Ma has pretty much adopted him too so he comes for an early Christmas every year before he goes back to France."

That had Hamilton perking up, "Laf is coming? Good. I was worried I wouldn't get to see him for the holidays what with us being here and--" He didn't bother finishing that sentence. They knew what he meant.

After that, there was a peaceful silence among everyone in their car. Thomas watched Hamilton lean back into his seat and relax; it was enough to have him dozing in no time. It didn’t last long, however, as they soon arrived in the small town where lights and stalls were set up everywhere in the main square. Their drivers dropped everyone off outside of it and the entire family—plus Hamilton—started to wander in. They didn’t travel as a whole group but promised to meet up later.

Thomas and Hamilton wound up splitting off to get a moment away from everyone else. Until they were out of sight of everyone else, they held hands and Thomas could feel how cold Hamilton’s hands became after just a few minutes through their gloves. The younger man had adjusted his scarf until it covered his face up to his nose, and the hat on his head covered most of the rest of it. It was actually adorable to see the spritely man curled in on himself and bundled up, sluggish in the cold.

“You really don’t do well in the cold, do you?” he asked.

Hamilton scoffed, and his eyes darted up to meet Thomas’, “I’m from the Caribbean; the coldest it gets in the high sixties most days.”

Thomas, thinking himself the perfect gentleman, removed his gloves and swiped Hamilton’s hands, slipping his gloves over Hamilton’s. “There. The last thing I need is you complaining about freezing to death. Again.”

“Look, if you’d just let me add more blankets, we wouldn’t have that problem.”

“Hamilton, you have ALL of the spare blankets in the house on your bed. You don’t need anymore.” Thomas slipped his hands into his coat pockets and pressed close to Hamilton’s side to at least keep him kind of warm. It was to prevent complaining, of course.

Hamilton linked his arm with Thomas’ and copied the pocket idea, “Then you’re going to have to put up with cold feet again.”

“Like hell, I will. I will tie you up into one giant sock if I have to.”

“So I’m going to be in your stocking this year? How sweet.”

“You know what I mean.”

After that, they wandered their way down the street, stall to stall, and looked through everything the vendors had to offer. Hamilton seemed to grow more excited the minute at the newness of getting to experience something like this.

“We didn’t have this back home,” he said at one point.

Thomas gave him a short nod, “Because this is modeled after the German Christmas markets…which is also why they have that stall over there.” Arm still linked with Hamilton’s, Thomas dragged him along to the vendor and ordered two cups of Gluhwein. He passed one to Hamilton, “Careful, it’s hot.”

“What on earth is this?” Hamilton took a sniff and his eyes fluttered closed with a hum. “Oh my—this smells so good.” A sip got a similar reaction out of him.

“Red wine with a little orange, sugar, spices, and so on and warmed. Glad you like it; I know not to let you have too many of those, you lush.” Hamilton elbowed him for that, causing Thomas to snicker and start walking again. “This whole event probably isn’t even close to what they have in Germany, but it’s nice for something different.”

“And why are we here in the evening?”

Thomas gestured to the buildings and the small park in the square, “Because when it gets a little darker out, they cut off the streetlights and all you have are the Christmas lights they have strung up everywhere. It’s very—picturesque, I guess you could say.”

“Like something out of a Thomas Kinkaid painting?” Hamilton offered.

Thomas wasn’t expecting Hamilton to know who that was; the man seemed so uncultured that he would never have guessed that the guy paid attention to art. “Yeah, something like that. I wish it had snowed before this, the glow off the snow just adds to the whole thing and—yeah, breathtaking.”

Hamilton only nodded and linked his arm back in Thomas’, blowing softly at his drink and sipping carefully. Thomas caught a glimpse at the corner of his eye of Hamilton licking his top lip when he accidentally sloshed it; he was ashamed to admit that he followed the motion, only to remember what Hamilton had done that morning. He felt his face heat up, and he looked away.

“I’ll let you lead us around; explore away pipsqueak.” He motioned to the market around them and heard Hamilton snort; it was because Thomas was actually letting him lead. He chose to ignore it and let Hamilton tug him along to wherever he wanted.

Some of the stalls had handmade items, some had sweets, and others had more generic things to sell. Hamilton wound up cheerfully picking up a few pastries and shared them with Thomas, who was surprised by the gesture but not Hamilton’s sweet tooth. They munched quietly as Thomas wandered into a stall and picked out a few things for his family. He didn’t grab anything for Elizabeth until they found a stall that sold various women’s apparel. From there, he walked around running his hands over anything of interest until he found a scarf, hat and glove set that was in a soft gray and green color. When Hamilton had given him a questioning look over his behavior, Thomas quietly replied with, “touch test” because of Elizabeth’s preferences. Hamilton readily accepted the answer, and they didn’t speak of it again.

They were about halfway through the evening when it started to snow; a light dusting at first that seemed to draw Hamilton out of his more subdued behavior in favor for excitement again.

“Hamilton, why are you bouncing around like a kid on Pez?”

Hamilton grinned at him and pointed at the snow, “Because it’s snowing, obviously.”

“Hamilton, you’ve seen snow before.” What the hell was so exciting about it?

“Yeah, but that’s only in the city where it’s dirty, shoved to the sidewalk, and gross. There’s nothing pretty about it.” Thomas hadn’t thought about that. He would have thought that Hamilton would have been out of the city somewhere to see the fresh snow, but apparently not. He had a bit more appreciation and patience for Hamilton’s sudden energy and excitement.

After Hamilton finished his drink and tossed the cup into the trash, he was bouncing around and dragging a disgruntled Thomas around. There was enough snow eventually to cover the ground to catch the yellowish glow of the Christmas lights and small fires in barrels along the sidewalks. And when Thomas looked over at his face, he found the giddy smile on Hamilton’s face and softened again. It was hard not to when he looked so happy about something so simple. He hated it, but he found himself smiling softly at the sight of the younger man until Hamilton looked over and caught him smiling at him.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Nothing, was just watching you be happy for once. Not that cynical glee you get when you trounce someone and—” Thomas stopped; he was rambling. He didn’t ramble. He wasn’t supposed to ramble. “It’s just weird is all. Forget I said anything.”

“Why do you suddenly care if I’m happy? I thought you fed on making my life miserable.”

“Now that was just uncalled for.” Thomas huffed and returned his attention to the market, sighing as he tugged Hamilton along. “Just…come on.”

“No, seriously; why do you care?” Hamilton stopped walking, forcing Thomas to stay.

“Contrary to what you believe, I don’t actually hate you.” Hamilton scoffed at him and Thomas huffed in reply. “Look, believe it or don’t, it’s the truth. You decide what to do with it.”

He started to start their trek across the road only for Hamilton to stop him again. “Why don’t you hate me? We’re mortal enemies and all…”

“No one actually has mortal enemies unless it’s in a comic book or movie. They don’t exist in the real world,” Thomas argued. Was the man really that thick? There was no way Hamilton actually believed that that fantasy thing was them.

“And yet here we are.” Hamilton made a sweeping motion, smirking. “We would fit the bill, right?”

“I’m pretty damn sure I just told you that I don’t hate you and that I don’t see us as enemies. If I saw you as an actual enemy, I wouldn’t have picked you for this trip. At all. Nor would I start shit with you in meetings. That’s all for show just to mess with you. You’re easy to piss off, and it’s a good laugh when I get home at night.”

Hamilton almost seemed insulted that Thomas didn’t agree with him on them being enemies, but when had they ever agreed? “I see you as my enemy.”

“That’s because you’re a drama queen.” With a smirk, Thomas tugged the hat down to cover Hamilton’s eyes. “Now hurry up twerp; we still have shopping to do. And there will be a children’s choir at the chapel in about a half hour. I don’t want to miss it.”

“Why? So that you can play the boogieman and scare them to death, make them cry, and then feed off of their tears?”

“Oh for the love of—you. Are. Not. My. Enemy. I’m not some evil bad guy out of a Bond film.” Yep. Thomas could feel the gray hair sprouting from his head right now. Like in Tangled where they cut her hair, and suddenly it turns brown? Yes. That’s what he was feeling. “And Mary and Lucy are in it. That’s why I want to see it.”

“I didn’t know they would be singing.”

“Because your head is always up your ass.”

“You talk about my ass a lot Jefferson. Are you trying to tell me something?”

Half of his head must be gray by now. It had to be. “Other than you don’t have one?”

“Excuse you, but my ass looks great, especially in these pants.” Hamilton tried to turn and show Thomas, but Thomas stopped him quickly.

“No one would be able to tell with the giant sweater dress you’re wearing.”

“I can fix that.”

Thomas groaned and dragged Hamilton behind him, “I cannot believe we are having this discussion. Do you ever take anything seriously?”

“I take my job seriously. I take my job of pissing you off seriously. I also take—” He would have continued to talk if Thomas didn’t whirl around and slap a hand over Hamilton’s mouth.

“Don’t test me because I WILL shut you up if I have to.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Hamilton winked flirtatiously, and Thomas wished that the Second Coming were happening right then.

“Both.” May as well jump in with both feet.

“Tell me all of the ways you plan to shut me up then,” came the challenge. And if Thomas didn’t see his cousins coming, he would have given him graphic descriptions of ripping his tongue out. Instead, he yanked Hamilton forward and kissed him. The surprised yelp brought a satisfied grin to Thomas’ face. Again, payback for that morning. How many ways could he get revenge for Hamilton pulling that stunt from this morning? Thomas could think of several. He pulled back and found Hamilton’s dazed look and smirked to himself. About damn time the idiot stops talking.

“Ew, gross. The adults are making out again.”

One of the girls smacked her brother’s arm, “Oh shut up. I saw you with Sam the other night.”

The brother began sputtering out, “You did not! I don’t kiss people, and I certainly don’t kiss my best friend and—”

“You totally made out with Sam. Stop trying to deny it.”

Thomas smiled to himself. So his cousin had a boyfriend. That’s new. He looked back to Hamilton who was staring up at him, frozen to the spot. “What?”

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes. Anthony and Cheyenne were coming, and I had to hide us arguing.” Thomas was still happy that he’d found Hamilton’s off switch. “Now come on, we should start making our way to the church.”

“Can I have another cup of that wine stuff on our way?”

“Lush.”

“Only because I need to get through this evening with you somehow.”

“Am I really that bad to be around?”

“The only thing bigger than your hair is your ego, and your hair is pretty big, so yes.”

Thomas lightly fluffed at his hair, “You’re just jealous because I have great hair.”

Hamilton gestured to his head, “I have nice hair too.”

“Your hair is always pulled back. No one knows what your hair really looks like.” Thomas had seen it down, of course, and he’d helped Hamilton with it the other night, but he was right in that Hamilton rarely ever let his hair down. He stopped and plucked Hamilton’s hat off, gently tugging the hair tie out and fluffing Hamilton’s hair out before smooshing the hat back on. “There. Now you have at least SOME hair showing. It’s a wonder you don’t have a receding hairline yet with how you always have it pull up and pulled back so tightly.”

Hamilton looked horrified and raised a hand to hold the locks of hair hanging out from under his hat, “My hairline will recede because I keep it pulled up?”

“You didn’t know that? I mean, it’s a slow tug thing, so eventually, it’ll stop growing back in those areas because of it.” He thought he heard Hamilton mumble that he was never pulling it up again. Part of him was happy to hear that, but he quickly stamped it back down. That was a thought for another time.

"So, you haven't bought anything. Why?" he asked. Yes, he just got the guy to shut up, but a quiet Hamilton was only tolerable for so long. And besides, Thomas wanted a say in whatever conversation they began.

Hamilton dropped his hand from his hair and ducked his head, almost sheepish, "I don't really have the money for that."

"You make nearly 200k a year, how do you not have the money for that?" Thomas didn't know of any gambling or drinking habits that the guy had, or any secret children or anything. What could he possibly be blowing his money on?

The younger hesitated, "I--invest it, I guess you could say."

"You invest it." This was going to be like pulling teeth or something. Ask the right questions. Get the right answers. If he knew what the hell the right question would be, Thomas wouldn't feel frustration building. "On what?"

"I'm--I'm helping Eliza and her sisters with...stuff."

"Hamilton, please just tell me what you do with it all." There went the rest of his luscious, dark curls. All of it was silver now.

"You know Eliza does a lot of work with orphanages, yeah?" When Thomas nodded, Hamilton continued, "I'm helping to fund a school specifically for kids in the system. It can't be a public school, or all children would be able to get in, so it has to be privately owned.  I keep enough to live on, invest a little, and put back for retirement, but about sixty or more percent of my paychecks go into building the school and setting up the curriculum and things. Building a school is hard, especially when you have this diverse of an age group and upbringing. However, if one of those kids is adopted locally, they won't be removed from the school, just because they now have a family. They'll be allowed to stay with their friends, but their parents will have to pay a tuition fee of some kind or another. The payment would be flexible because adopting a kid is so damn expensive and not everyone could pay for private school after that process."

Thomas said nothing for a time, thinking it over. The orphanage, Hamiton paying as much towards it as he can, Eliza as the angel she is was probably leading the project, and Hamilton was an orphan at one point, wasn't he? "It's...an issue dear to you, isn't it?"

"Yes. And I'm trying to harass Washington into passing more bills on the adoption laws and costs. It's keeping too many kids out of good homes. We complain that there are too many children in the system, but then we do almost nothing to fix it. I don't want those kids going through what I did. They deserve better." By the end of it, his voice had gone quiet enough that Thomas had to lean to the side to hear him. Why did the kids deserve better than Hamilton? It wasn't like the guy had done something wrong to deserve the shitty life he'd grown up with.

"You did too, you know." Hamilton looked up at Thomas then, and Thomas swore he saw some of the walls come crumbling down in Hamilton's eyes. "No kid deserves it now, and you didn't deserve it back then either."

There was a moment of silent understanding between them, and they paused in the middle of the sidewalk to bask in it. Finally, Thomas found something else that was a safe-ish subject. Sort of. He didn't think Hamilton would give him more than what he'd said now, but it was a start. There was a silent dismissal of the subject, and they continued until Thomas stopped and gave in to Hamilton's earlier wish about another cup. He wound up getting them both one and also a pretzel to share.

"I believe you said there were princesses singing tonight?" Hamilton asked.

"I think I did, yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yey. Fuzzy mushy Alex. Kinda.  
> Lemme know if you guys see errors or have Constructive Criticism™


	10. Hark The Herald Angels Sing, Let's Put That On Facebook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are angels.  
> Alex coughs and Jefferson is internally panicking and screaming.  
> Alex gets his Christmas gift early.  
> Jefferson takes him home for fun times.  
> Or does he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter but HEY I caught up. Finally. Ugh. This thing is about 81 pages on a Word document and I'm curious to how long it'll be if I double space that hot mess.  
> Honestly, I haven't written this much since the one and only Nanowrimo I completed years ago.  
> And it's in only a few chapters. Whoops.  
> Anyway, Thomas is a darling for a bit, but still a turd. What else is new?

Alex was happy to stop bickering with Jefferson long enough to see the girls sing and oh heavens they’re dressed as little angels and Alex wanted to melt from the cute. He immediately took pictures of them when they ran over to hug him and Jefferson.

“Alright princesses, we need some selfies so get over here.” Alex tugged Jefferson down into a crouch, and they pulled the girls close to them. “Aaaaand on three, say angels. Ready? One, two, three! Angels!” He clicked a few of the four of them together, then just the two girls, then them with him, and lastly the two of them with Jefferson.

“Unholy hell, these are going on Facebook. You guys are too cute for the world to remain ignorant of your beautiful smiles.” Alex was grinning as he flipped through the pictures and looked up when he felt someone watching him. Jefferson was staring at him strangely, and Alex stuck his tongue out at him for the girls’ amusement, and then went back to editing the photos before making an album on Facebook for them. He coughed into his elbow once and continued typing on his phone. “There we go! The two prettiest girls in the world are going to be famous…well, I think your uncle is pretty, but he’s second to you ladies.” The girls giggled and hugged him, demanding to see the pictures.

Alex was only too happy to share with them, smile growing as they ooh and ahh’d the photos of them. When they finished, they demanded a funny one. “Alright. Mary, on your uncle's shoulders, Lucy, on mine. Angels are meant to be in the air after all.” Jefferson shot him a look at being roped into this but dropped it when Mary immediately clamored onto his shoulders. Alex stood up when he got Lucy up and pressed close to Jefferson’s side. “Now raise your hands up like you’re flying, Thomas, you and I gotta seem surprised and awed by angels.”

The girls ate it up and pestered Alex and Jefferson for more pictures until their teacher came to collect them for the performance. Every single picture went on Facebook and Alex made sure to tag Jefferson in the album. “There we go. I’ll add any I take during their performance.”

Jefferson stepped closer to Alex when he saw his cousins coming, and Alex slung an arm around his waist. “You’re not worried your friends will freak out about us behaving?”

“Shit.” Alex jerked away from Jefferson and immediately sent out a mass text to everyone that mattered about the situation and told them not to make a big deal out of him and Jefferson getting along. It didn’t work well as they still said it was terrifying to see them smiling in the same picture and it being real, rather than forced, and not killing one another. It pained him, but Alex switched visibility on the photos to just his closest friends. “I think I fixed it? No one in your family should be able to see it, even if I did tag you in it.”

His phone wouldn’t stop going off in his pocket either for the entirety of the evening, and the coughing kept popping up at random intervals, growing more frequent as time went on.

The girls were great. The kids were dressed as angels and the adults were dressed like carolers out of a Dickins story. Alex felt proud and he’d only known them for a few days. He and Jefferson were some of the loudest cheering for them when they all finished. The girls ran to their parents and slowly the crowd began to disperse. Alex turned to Jefferson, beaming at him. “I took about twenty hundred pictures.”

“Oh yeah? I got Lucy’s solo on video.”

“You bastard.”

“I thought that was you, not me?” Alex paused and watched uncertainty flit across Jefferson’s face as he realized what he said. “Shit. I’m s—”

“All right, but if I’m the bastard, you’re the sleazy CEO, serial killer.” Alex’s lips twitched up, and it broke into a full grin when Jefferson started laughing.

“A sleazy CEO serial killer? That’s oddly specific. Where the hell did that one come from?” Jefferson was rubbing at his face, shoulders still shaking.

“What? When I’m pissed off, I imagine you as a serial killer or a robber at a bank that failed and was caught and thrown in prison for life or shot.” That only had Jefferson laughing again, and Alex had the passing thought that Jefferson was mildly sweet when he laughed for real rather than mockingly at Alex over something Alex had suggested. It was infectious too and had Alex trying to stifle his.

“Am I the only one who you demonize?” he asked after he stopped laughing.

Alex beamed and shook his head, “Nope. When I was bored in class back in college, I would imagine how everyone in class would either die or what sort of crime they had the potential to commit. It was a fun writing exercise.”

“Alexander, that’s messed up.”

He really did freeze at that one. Jefferson wasn’t supposed to call him by his first name if his family wasn’t around. They just didn’t do that. “Jefferson—you know we’re—”

Jefferson winced and crammed his hands into his pocket, “Sorry. It slipped.”

Alex hummed but said nothing more about it once he started coughing; it was a little too deep to be a tickle, and he grimaced when he stopped. “Sorry. The cold is starting to get to me. Be it the weather or ice cream; eventually it gets me coughing.”

Jefferson frowned, “Do you have asthma?”

“Not—that I know of. Why?” Alex tensed when Jefferson reached out and started adjusting Alex’s scarf to cover his throat and mouth a little better.

“Because coughing when exposed to cold air can be a sign of it. Do you cough when you run or anything?” He continued to fiddle with the fabric around Alex’s throat, which had Alex wondering if Jefferson would choke him if he said the wrong thing.

“Yeah. Bad, actually. I figured it was because I was out of shape or something, but I still have problems. I haven’t been able to jog outside since the cold set in. It makes it worse.”

Jefferson hummed in reply and seemed to finish what he was doing, shaking his head. “We should get you another scarf and something warm to drink. NOT the wine. But, that does sound like asthma.” He grabbed Alex’s hand and started tugging him through the stalls and small shops until he found the one where he bought Elizabeth’s stuff. Alex was dragged all over the place as Jefferson quickly picked out two more scarves that would be warmer than what Alex was already wearing. And softer.

He wrapped a second around Alex’s neck and mouth, pulling it up to his nose. “Here. Breathe through your mouth slowly to give your body a chance to warm it. Having the scarf there will help keep it and your throat warm.”

“Um, thank you.” Alex looked down at the newest scarf around his neck and smiled, although it was hidden behind the thick fabric. “Aw, you do care.”

“If you die, I’m the first one they’ll suspect of murder, remember?” Jefferson flashed him a grin before stuffing the second scarf he bought into the bag with the other things he bought for his family. “Consider it as an early Christmas present.”

“Oh, so now Santa is giving me the special treatment?”

“I am not Santa, dammit.”

“Santa baby, won’t you—”

“Keep singing that song. I dare you,” he growled, even as Alex coughed again.

“Hurry down the chimney tonight?”

Jefferson groaned and yanked Alex to him, twirling him around once and finishing the line for Alex. “See what you made me do? Asshole.”

“I didn’t make you start singing and dancing. That was all you.” Alex grinned and lightly shoved at Jefferson’s chest, pulling the scarf down a little to be heard. “Don’t pin that on me.”

With a grin, the older male yanked the scarf up to cover Alex’s mouth again. “Shut it, shrimp. I should get a proper gag to shut you up.”

“But—” Alex coughed again, a small one.

Jefferson put a hand over the scarf and over Alex’s mouth, “Hush, you’re dying.”

Alex huffed but stopped talking. Even through the scarf, it would be easy to see that Alex was pouting. Jefferson smirked and lowered his hand, grabbing Alex’s hand and dragging him off again towards a shop that was indoors. Alex couldn’t help but think “this man is going to pull my arm off if he keeps this up or I’m going to fall because I can’t keep up with his long legs.”

“Jefferson, slow down. Your legs are too damn long and—” Back into a coughing fit he went, even when they got into the small coffee shop. Jefferson sighed like he was inconvenienced and stepped closer to Alex, hugging him tightly from the front and rubbing his back. “You’re going to die.”

The elderly couple by the door looked alarmed, and the husband nearly pulled out his cell phone, but Jefferson waved him off and hugged Alex tighter. Alex, despite his best efforts, melted once again into what he was going to start calling the Warm Jefferson Family Embrace. The coughing and shuddering stopped, and he pressed his face into Jefferson’s chest. ‘He smells nice’ was a passing thought of Alex’s as he started taking deep breaths. The arms wrapped around him relaxed slightly into something gentler until they fell away completely when someone was trying to get through the door.

Jefferson led him to a table in the back and had Alex sit down while he ran to get them drinks. He came back with more of that damn mint tea he seemed to like so much for himself and chamomile and honey for Alex. Alex tugged the scarf down and sipped at the tea carefully to keep from burning his mouth.

“Better?” Jefferson asked quietly. Alex nodded, muttering thanks, and continued to sip at his drink. He felt uncomfortable with Jefferson staring at him, but he tried to ignore it, focusing on the drink until most of it was gone. Then, he pulled out his phone to answer a few of the texts his friends spammed him with, trying to answer their questions with the smallest bit of information he could. To Lafayette, Alex privately held a different conversation about the weirdness of Jefferson’s behavior. Alex only received a winky face in reply.

“We should get you home rather than wait for everyone else to finish their shopping and sightseeing.” Alex looked up at Jefferson’s not so subtle order disguised as a suggestion. He was too tired and sore from the coughing to bother arguing with him, so he only nodded as he finished up the last of his tea. Jefferson took out his phone and called his brother to let him know what was going on, and then called one of their drivers to meet them to take them back early. When he finished, he stood and guided Alex outside, slowing his pace for Alex’s benefit.

Outside, he fussed with Alex’s scarves again. “Good?” When Alex nodded, Jefferson threw an arm around Alex and started to their pick-up point. “When we get back, we’ll bundle you up in blankets and throw you in front of the fire for a bit.”

“Fire sounds nice. Could you just set me on fire? That’ll do the trick.” His voice was muffled behind the layers of fabric, but Jefferson still heard him and cracked up.

“No. I’m saving that for when you really piss me off. I want to burn you at the stake one day.” Another passing couple, teenagers, looked terrified and scurried faster. That had Alex laughing a little, but it started up the coughing again.

“Stop laughing.”

“Sorry but it’s hard not to when I see your ugly mug.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” Jefferson ushered him into the car and crawled in behind him. He reached forward and cranked up the heat and then carefully pulled Alex to his side again. “Still good?”

Alex must be going crazy because Jefferson was still nice to him and they weren’t supposed to be nice to each other. And maybe he WAS crazy because when he nodded, Jefferson gently squeezed him. This whole evening was weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo Alexander is not from a cold region and did not grow up in a cold region. Winter gets to him and I totally HC that he has asthma problems in the winter. City life probably doesn't help much either.  
> The scarf thing is from experience, both as an asthmatic and a vocalist. Gotta keep the pipes warm and cozy.  
> As always, hmu with any errors you spot.  
> Oh, and I was happy about the hits and kudos and feedback and wasn't thinking when my mom asked me why I was so giddy over this thing. And then the "can I read it if people like it that much?"  
> My mom is a conservative Christian lady and I'm a liberal Christian lady. Letting her read my gay fanfiction would be the equivalent of watching the porn scene in Deadpool with her sitting beside me.  
> Basically, I gotta write something hetero to show her so that she doesn't flip her poo.


	11. Keep It Boxers Or Just Brief?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanna_Black_Slytherin was curious as to if Washington was included in the convo. Congrats kid, you get both Washingtons.  
> Basically mini-sode of the text conversation in Alex's pocket.

**To: Hunk, The-BOSS, Turtle-boi, The-REAL-Boss, Burrrrr, Eliiiiiza, Frenchfry, Sneezy, And-Peggy**

**Hunk:** Wow. Get sum Ham!

 **The-BOSS:** Does this mean you two will stop trying to kill each other during meetings? Because that would be a great Christmas gift to me.

 **Turtle-boi:** Ur fraternizing w the enemy.

 **And-Peggy:** Herc, you owe me 50.

 **Eliiiiiza:** Ang, you owe me 24.78, plus $2 in interest.

 **Hunk:**  Why 26.78?

 **Eliiiiiza:** That’s how much she charged on my Visa the other day on a single cupcake.

 **Turtle-boi:** Who the hell spends 24.78 on a cupcake?

 **The-Queen:** I would and they were damn good too.

 **The-REAL-Boss:** Hun, George and I are happy you two are finally getting along. We might actually save money on Tylenol now.

 **The-BOSS:** Martha, don’t jinx it. For the love of all that’s holy, don’t jinx it.

 **Sneezy:** Oh no. Please no. Thomas is bad enough with you two as enemies but boyfriends? I’ll need to relocate to Guatemala.

 **The-Queen:** Why Guatemala?

 **Sneezy:** Because Thomas hates it there and he’d never come to find me.

 **Burrrrr:** Because this doesn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

 **Burrrrr:** -changed to Frosty by The-Queen-

 **Frosty:** Please don’t call me Frosty.

 **Frosty:** -changed to Frosty the Snowburr by The-Queen-

 **Frosty the Snowburr:** Really?

 **The-Queen:** Really, Really.

 **Hunk:** Oh, are we making Shrek refs now? I want in.

 **Porkchop:** Guys, please don’t make a big deal out of it online. We’re not actually dating and we don’t want his family knowing.

 **Porkchop:** I screwed up and shouldn’t have posted those.

 **Porkchop:** Be lowkey supportive on FB, please?

 **Porkchop:** Hold on, you guys were taking bets on us?

 **Porkchop:** Excuse you, but I want in on that so I can win when I prove you assholes wrong.

 **The-REAL-Boss:** Alexander, sweetie, please just let George have this one thing for Christmas. Let him dream a little.

 **The-Boss:** Martha…

 **Frenchfry:** ;DDDDDDDDDDDD

 **Porkchop:** Laf no.

 **Hunk:** Laf yes.

 **Turtle-boi:** Laf yes.

 **The-Queen:** Laf yes.

 **Eliiiiiza:** Laf yes.

 **And-Peggy:** Laf yes.

 **Porkchop:** I hate you all. Goodnight.

 **Porkchop:** -has left chat-

 **Frosty the Snowburr:** Can I get out of this chat now? Please?

 **Turtle-boi:** No. Guys, start spamming Burr.

 

**To: Frenchfry**

**Porkchop:** Jefferson is being weird. Why is he being weird? The last time he was nice to me, I got stuck in this mess. What does he want from me this time?

 **Frenchfry:** ;DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

 **Porkchop:** Laf no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care if real life may say differently, Martha Washington totally wore the pants in the relationship.  
> Poor Burr. I think I say that in every fic, but seriously, poor Burr.  
> Madison just wants some peace and quiet darn it.  
> Angelica+Overpriced Cupcakes is beautiful.
> 
> I also thought my placement of Peggy's name was genius, but I am lacking in caffeine and haven't had my medicine yet today so I think I'm hilarious at the moment.


	12. Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire...Or Are Those Your Nut--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinosaurs.  
> Warm clothes.  
> Fireside naps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Sanna_Black_Slytherin, theshrekening455, Fluffy Magpies, TheSlime, and HamiltonFan for being like, my personal Hype Team in the comments. You guys are beautiful.

Alex was more than happy to lean into the warm body next to him. It had grown steadily colder at the market, and he was beginning to think his teeth would start chattering until they broke. But Jefferson’s arm around him was a comfortable heat that Alex melted into—and nearly fell asleep in if he were honest with himself. The arm tightened around him after he started coughing again, and didn’t loosen until they made it back to Shadwell.

“Alright, come on Alexander.” Alex didn’t bother correcting him, but followed the older man out of the car, only to be unceremoniously scooped up and carried to the door.

“My legs aren’t broken,” he grumbled.

He saw Jefferson’s lips twitch up, “Yes, but you’re dying on me. I can smell it. I’m trying to delay the inevitable here.”

“Really? And here I thought you were planning on finishing me off while I’m down.”

“Nah, I’d rather off you while you’re able to fight back. There’s no honor in killing you when you’ll probably die in the next five minutes anyway.”

“How sweet. I think I might be getting a cavity down here.” Alex covered his mouth when he thought he’d start up again and curled against Jefferson with a huff. Nothing happened, so he was in the clear again, but he didn’t pull away or try to fight the man off.

“Maybe when all of your teeth fall out, you’ll shut up.”

“Doubt it.”

Jefferson carried him up the stairs and, despite how gently he had been moving Alex, ultimately dropped him onto the bed and snickered to himself over Alex’s squawk. Alex pushed himself up and watched Jefferson go through Alex’s clothes, pulling out his pajama pants again, one of Jefferson’s sweatshirts, and two pairs of thick socks.

Before Alex could ask what he was doing, Jefferson was already making for the bedroom door with them and called back. “I’m going to throw these into the dryer for a few minutes before you put them on. They’ll be a lot warmer that way.”

“You like putting on clothes fresh out of the dryer? My word, marry me.” The humor of it was gone the moment Alex realized what he’d said. Both men stared at one another in shock and Alex was the first to look away. He was pissed off at himself for being the one to show weakness, but looking back up, he found Jefferson still frozen in shock. The second round of eye contact seemed to shake Jefferson out of wherever he’d gone in his head, and he turned and disappeared in an instant.

Alex waited a moment before flopping back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, “Why the hell did I just say that?”

Jefferson came back a few minutes later and motioned for Alex to follow him. “They’ll be done in a moment, but for now, how about something to eat?”

“So long as it isn’t crunchy, we’re good.” He didn’t think his throat would like that very much right now. Jefferson nodded and pulled Alex to his feet, leaving Alex’s hand cold when he let go of it and turned to lead Alex back downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Mac and cheese?” he offered.

“Jefferson, I swear, don’t you dare feed me mac and cheese or I will strangle you.”

“You can’t reach that high.”

Alex hopped onto the counter to sit, smirking at Jefferson. “The thing about short people is, we’re resourceful and should terrify you beanpoles because when there’s something we want, we WILL get it. Never mind if it’s ten boxes, a table with a bad leg, and an office chair with wheels. Watch yourself.”

Jefferson reached over Alex to get to the oatmeal in the cabinet behind him, forcing Alex to lean back to get out of Jefferson’s way, only to lean forward again to duck away from the cabinet. Right. Back. Into Jefferson’s space. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

“As—as you should be, asshole.” Alex saw Jefferson roll his eyes and felt his breath wash over his face when the man huffed. He dropped his arms and leaned back into Alex’s space, smirking.

“Now, now, be nice. I’m making you dinner, remember?”

Alex’s own lips twitched towards a smile, “It’s a bit late for dinner—or breakfast.”

“Any time of day is good for breakfast so hush.”

“Going to make me, giraffe?”

He grinned when he saw Jefferson’s eyes flash in annoyance, only to freeze when Jefferson leaned in—only to be halted before he made it by Alex’s phone buzzing in his pocket. Hardly an inch between them and yet they still both debated silently as to whether or not Alex should figure out who was calling him. Alex was silently cursing whoever it was for cock-blocking him and Jefferson, only to curse himself for even thinking about something so vile. Jefferson seemed to sense what Alex would do and silently moved away to start on the oatmeal.

Frustrated with his phone and with himself, Alex tugged it out of his pocket and saw that it was only another text from John asking if he was still alive. Didn’t they talk not thirty or so minutes ago? Alex sent him a string of angry emojis and then muted his phone, tossing it onto the counter next to him with a huff. Jefferson looked up at the noise and quirked a brow but said nothing, going back to avoiding Alex’s eyes. They said nothing until Jefferson had the oatmeal going, and then he was shooing Alex to go change in the laundry room.

“Don’t feel like it,” he mumbled.

With a dramatic groan of his own, Jefferson went back to the counter Alex was perched on and tugged him off. “You’ll feel better after you change. Promise.”

Huffing and puffing and pouting, Alex stomped off to change, ignoring Jefferson’s quiet laughs behind him at Alex’s irritation at being moved. Jefferson was right, though. The warm clothes felt heavenly on his chilled body and Alex thought he’d melt through the floor right there. Sighing contentedly, he leaned against the dryer and slid down to the floor. Yep, melting. He was just starting to hug his knees to his chest when Jefferson came looking for him.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I told you I didn’t want to move.”

“Get up anyway; your oatmeal is done, moron.” He snorted when Alex hugged his knee tighter and managed to flip him off. That landed him a nice spot on Jefferson’s shoulder as he was carted back to the kitchen and deposited at the breakfast bar. “You’re still too light.”

“And you still keep picking me up. Stop that.”

“Well, when you stop acting like a lazy and petulant child, I might st—”

“Are there dinosaurs in my oatmeal?” Alex stared down at the colorful sprinkles in his oatmeal, blinking slowly and baffled at why someone would put something so silly in their food.

“Yeah, Lucy is going through a dinosaur phase, so Ma decided to stock up on these things.”

“I knew I liked her—this is adorable. I can’t believe you cooked me something that has cute dinosaurs sprinkles in it.” Alex was grinning at Jefferson, even while he stuck the spoon in his mouth.

“Hamilton, is it food?”

“Yes.”

“Is it killing you?”

“Not yet.”

“It won’t.”

“But how can you kn—”

“Hamilton. Eat your damn dinosaurs.”

“Yes, sir.” For once, Alex did as he was told, finding that he was hungrier than he had originally thought. The bowl was empty in under three minutes, and Jefferson took about five after he saw Alex shoveling it down. Like hell would he allow Alex downtime. After that, Jefferson ordered Alex to make for the library and grab his book, and when he came back, he was in his own pajamas and had a stack of blankets that he could just barely see over.

He dropped them onto Alex’s lap and issued another order to bundle up in them while he got a fire going. That got Alex’s attention and Jefferson nearly fell over him when he backed away from the fireplace and didn’t realize that Alex had settled on the rug behind him. Alex was grateful for the lovely view, at least. Jefferson joined him a moment later with his own book, although Alex didn’t catch the name of it before Jefferson opened it.

And then they sat there, bundled up together and read and Alex thought it was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him in his life. Jefferson’s arm wrapped around him, and he quietly asked if Alex was feeling any better, if the cough was going away. Alex had nodded and curled closer to Jefferson, who eventually moved them to the couch with Jefferson leaning against the arm of the couch and Alex sitting between his legs and his back against Jefferson’s chest. They’d fallen asleep like that.

Come to find out, the actual weirdest moment would be in the morning when he vaguely remembered falling asleep on Jefferson and the man holding him tugging the blanket up higher and wrapping his arms tightly around Alex. When he started to become more aware of his surroundings, he discovered that he and Jefferson had scooted down the couch until they were both horizontal.

He tilted his head up to peek at the face of the man he was laying on and found that Jefferson was still out cold. Alex watched as Jefferson’s eyes flicked around beneath closed eyelids, which inevitably drew his eyes to Jefferson’s ridiculous eyelashes that Alex heard Angelica complain about. “Why are his so long naturally and I have to use mascara to get mine to look like that? It’s wasted on him,” she’d said. Looking at him now, Alex didn’t think so. They were nice on him. Was nice even a right word for it? No, they were beautiful on Jefferson, and they fanned out elegantly. Angelica was right, to some extent; it wasn’t fair. More because it should be illegal for anyone to look as good as Jefferson than anything else.

So he lay there, studying Jefferson’s face. His pores were small, skin smooth and clear, his beard was getting a little scruffy, so he would need to shape it again today, or tonight, whenever. Alex knew he was getting scruffy. He’d gone to keeping himself clean shaven, being told he could shave off a few years with boyish looks—not that he was old in the slightest; it had the benefit of getting him what he wanted more often now. Carefully, Alex scooted up just a hair more and, sighing contentedly from the warmth wrapped around him, tucked his face into Jefferson’s neck, dozing off again. He was too comfortable to worry about wanting to stay busy.

Even in his sleep, Jefferson seemed perfectly okay with Alex’s idea and hugged him more tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw someone mentioning my fic to one of the Hamilton Moms in a comment on Tumblr and I like, flipped my poop. I was torn between liking/commenting/saying something but I was sitting there like, but what if the anon doesn't mean my fic??? Or would this seem like, super cocky of me to heart the thing???  
> Instead, I just drafted it so I could keep tabs on the people hearting/commenting on it to search for confirmation because I am ridiculous and curious and sort of kind of hoping.  
> So whoever you are behind the comment on that ask response, this chapter sort of a shout out for you too.


	13. Fluff Me Up A Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marshmallow Fluff  
> Actual fluff  
> Feelings  
> Teasing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOMEONE DREW ART OF COLD ALEX.  
> http://ixhadbadxdays.tumblr.com/post/154334345382/drew-a-quick-doodle-of-a-cold-alex-from-chapter-4  
> BLESS THIS SWEET SOUL.  
> \--  
> And I have also forgotten that Alex has glasses for like, the last ten billion chapters.  
> Whoops.

When the pair woke again, it was to the girl scampering into the library to wake them up. Thomas and Hamilton were blushing when they realized how tightly they were embracing one another, and the moment the girls were gone, gently nudged Hamilton off of him, which sent the smaller man to the floor with a yelp.

“Damn Puerto Rican koala,” he grumbled. When Thomas looked back down, he swore he caught a glimpse of Hamilton pouting before it was covered when the smaller started rubbing at his eyes. Thomas had a fleeting fantasy of Hamilton repeating the action, but wearing Thomas’ clothes again and unholy hell that was cute and wrong on so many levels. Irritated with himself, he chucked the blankets off of him and let them fall over Hamilton’s head. There. That’s better. Now he won’t have to see Hamilton’s gross face.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, excuse you. I’m trying to get around ya, shrimp.” With a smirk, he rubbed at the blankets over Hamilton’s head to mess up his already messy hair, which had the lovely effect of giving Hamilton static hair when he managed to rip them off. The smirk was gone the moment Hamilton reached up and pressed his finger to Thomas’ nose. Thomas jerked away at the shock, rubbing at the stinging skin with a scowl. “Rude.”

Hamilton only dumped the blankets over Thomas and sauntered out of the library like he owned the estate. Thomas wanted to strike him dead with it, but then he remembered how Hamilton looked when he went to sleep on him the night before and suddenly he wasn’t so irritated anymore. Except that in itself was irritating. Whatever.

The remainder of the week was—oddly peaceful, and Thomas and Hamilton were not squabbling in private much. Although it might be because they were becoming awkward around one another after the Christmas market and library thing. Hamilton seemed to try and hide behind petty insults, and Thomas, for some stupid reason, figured that it’d be a good idea to retaliate in the same way just so that they could have some sense of normalcy. There were a lot of short jokes involved. And dick jokes, but they tried to hide those behind other insults to make it less obvious.

When the weekend came, they packed their things and headed back to Monticello for a vacation from their vacation. Hamilton seemed to try and shy away from Thomas with one excuse or another until Thomas had enough of the weird silence and barged into Hamilton’s bedroom around dinner time.

“Come get dinner, eat with me, help me decorate the tree and drink hot chocolate like an average idiot.”

Hamilton had startled at the ruckus and nearly dropped his laptop, cramming his glasses back up his nose a moment later. His eyes were wide, searching Thomas for any sign that the man was about to attack him before he slowly nodded. Thomas waited for Hamilton to shut down his laptop and slink out of the room before he made for the kitchen. He glanced down and saw that Hamilton still had those wool socks that Thomas had made him wear days ago and remembered when he’d scared Hamilton shitless in the middle of the night, ending with Hamilton falling on his ass when he slipped in the socks.

He let his eyes trail up the rest of him, noting the fitted sweats that looked more like yoga pants, and yet another hideous sweater that covered half of his entire body. Another green one, but this one was even more godawful than the others Thomas had seen so far. Who in the hell wears neon green sweaters?

This idiotic asshole, apparently.

“I really need to take you clothes shopping because your sense of fashion is…even Crocks are insulted by your fashion sense.” He tugged at the sleeve of Hamilton’s sweater as he passed.

“Says the man who has a hot pink coat.”

“Fuchsia. It’s Fuchsia.”

“Even worse.”

Thomas huffed and started plating the food he had cooked up, passing Hamilton his and then joining him once he’d grabbed the wine. “You will eat every morsel or you’re not getting up from the table.”

“Jefferson, I’m not five years old.” Hamilton stabbed at a particularly offensive green bean with more ferocity than necessary.

“Really? Could have fooled me with how you dress yourself. Should we get you some Garanimals? To help you match your clothes?” Hamilton looked Thomas dead in the eye and stabbed at a piece of potato, which was soft enough that it only split the potato chunk in half, rather than skewer it; Hamilton didn’t realize this until he went to stick his fork in his mouth and bit down on metal and not potatoes. The startled and slightly pained look was hilarious and worth the death glare.

“Shut up,” Hamilton grumbled.

“Going to make me like every other time you’ve threatened me or are you all talk?” Hamilton stopped talking then, blinking at Thomas like he just realized that he’d never followed through on any of his threats about making Thomas shut his mouth or buzz off, even the realistic one.

Hamilton hummed and then went back to eating, cleaning his plate.

Dragging out the stuff for the tree was easy, making the hot chocolate before they started doing anything with the stuff in the boxes, turned out to be an adventure as Hamilton told Thomas that he was doing it all wrong.

Thomas had angrily huffed and stepped away from where he was gathering stuff, “Then you make it.”

“We need to go to the store first.”

“What?”

“Do you have marshmallow cream?”

“No? Why the hell would I—”

“Then we need to go to the store to get some because you can’t have hot chocolate without that.”

“Hamilton, it’s late.”

“Then I’m not drinking hot chocolate.”

“Are you really going to be that petty?” Thomas watched as Hamilton huffed and folded his arms, pouting at Thomas until Thomas gave in. “Fine. But change out of that horrid outfit you’re in. I am not taking you to the grocery store looking like that.”

And so their adventure to the nearest store began, Hamilton all but dragging Thomas down the isles until he got his plastic jar of marshmallow cream and a small thing of chili powder.

“Why do you need chili powder? I thought you wanted stuff for hot chocolate?” Thomas didn’t understand.

Hamilton waved it around in the air, “Because good hot chocolate has chili powder and cinnamon in it with fluff on top. You’re having some with me.”

“Like hell, I will.”

“At least try mine before I make yours?” Oh no. Puppy eyes. Since when did Hamilton start using puppy eyes on him? That wasn’t fair at all.

Thomas grumbled to himself but nodded to Hamilton as they made their way through the checkout and back home. “This had better be the best damn hot chocolate on the planet or I’m pouring that whole container of chili powder in your mouth and letting you choke on it.”

“We’ve been over this Jefferson. You can’t kill me or let me die from whatever freak accident because you’ll be the first one they’ll think did me in. Someone has to be the Secretary of State, and while you’re terrible, you’re not the worst we’ve ever had. Let’s keep it that way by not letting you go to jail for my untimely death.” Hamilton all but skipped through the door and to the kitchen, “Besides, Mary and Lucy would be really upset about me dying and their favorite uncle going to prison.”

Thomas wished Hamilton would stop using that against him, their rivalry making Thomas look suspicious if something happened to Hamilton.

He leaned against the counter as Hamilton started making the hot chocolate, using baker’s cocoa powder and sugar rather than the pre-made packets of mix that Thomas began to use. Hamilton took a swig of his after he added the spices to it and hummed happily. It fogged his glasses slightly but it was gone the next instant. Passing it to Thomas, Hamilton was practically vibrating with excitement. That unsettled Thomas a little more than before, but he took a sip anyway.

“Hmmm, not bad, but it’s not for me. Thanks, though.” Thomas passed it back to Hamilton who huffed but put the fluff on both of their mugs and gave it to Thomas. Hamilton almost looked insulted that Thomas didn’t want it and finally, he caved and passed it back to Hamilton. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“But it’s already got the fluff on it,” the smaller started to argue.

“Find a way to make it happen to get rid of your pouting.” Hamilton did as he was told, but he grumbled about not pouting because he was a grown ass man. “You don’t look like you grew much Hamilton.”

Hamilton tensed and said nothing for a moment, not until he passed Thomas his mug again. “That’s because we didn’t have much food growing up. Starvation sort of stunts the growth a little.”

Thomas almost said something about how he must have moved up to level 3 boyfriend but decided against it when he saw Hamilton’s face. The man seemed scared, almost, concerned about Thomas’ opinion of him. It took Thomas a second for it to dawn on him that Hamilton always had, to some extent, cared about what Thomas thought of him. It explained how if there was ever an issue that Hamilton needed to order his thoughts, he’d come to Thomas about it—he’d shout at him, but Hamilton always seemed more relaxed after that, and had tunnel vision with whatever he was working on.

He didn’t think there were many ways to respond to that appropriately other than reaching out and taking Alexander’s hand, gently squeezing it as a small motion of comfort and understanding. Sometimes they didn’t need to yell at one another to get the point across. When he felt Alexander squeeze back, Thomas gently guided him to the living room, smiling softly at him. The small, nervous smile he received was enough for now. He let go when they set their mugs down and left Alexander’s side to put on a Chrismas record.

“Old man,” Alexander said with a snort behind him.

“I’m not much older than you, shrimp. How old are you anyway? You look about twenty-three.”

“I’m twenty-seven, thank you very much.” Thomas looked over his shoulder, smirking at Alexander’s petulant scowl.

“Aw, you’re finally out diapers.” The huff just made Thomas’ grin grow. “I’m thirty-one.”

“Like I said, old.”

“You do know that this makes us the youngest in our positions in history, right?”

Alexander fell silent, and Thomas could see the gears turning in his head, and the younger thought on it. “You’re right actually…and I doubt anyone would top us. We both graduated early, didn’t we?”

“Yep, a couple of child geniuses. I think you would have beaten Burr had the circumstances been different.” Alexander preened under the praise but quickly turned shy again when he realized that Thomas just said he was better than Burr.

“You think I’m smarter than Burr?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of all of us, I believe you are by far the most intelligent in office, and certainly the most driven. I think I would come as a close second.” Thomas smiled kindly and moved to sit beside Alexander. "I think you could have graduated high school at no later than 14."

Alexander lightly shoved Thomas' shoulder, "Shut up, bean pole. The last few times you've been nice ended with you wanting something. So, what do you want, old man?"

Thomas smiled. What he thought he wanted, he wouldn't get, but it was a nice thought. "To get a picture of you drooling on me the next time you pass out on me. Then, I'm going to Snapchat it to James with the puppy filter."

"You wouldn't dare..."

"I would."

"But I made you hot chocolate."

"And I made you dinosaur oatmeal."

Alexander said nothing for a moment before nodding solemnly, "Fair enough."

Thomas felt warm when Alexander beamed at him from behind his mug. Even with his glasses fogged, Thomas could still see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Dammit, he was screwed. Royally screwed. And with Alexander having shaved that morning, his smooth skin looked clear and warm, not just in color or the fire light. His fingers itched to touch, to brush along his cheeks and move back into Alexander's hair. Thomas would need to pull it down from the elastic first, and the bump in Alexander's hair wouldn't be a problem; Thomas thought it was endearing. Then he swept his eyes and found Alexander staring at Thomas' mouth, although maybe he was just hopeful.

"Jefferson?" Oh, right. Alexander was still calling him by his last name, formal.

Thomas shook away his thoughts and smiled awkwardly, "You can call me Thomas, Alexander. I think you're at least level four boyfriend now..."

The laugh was worth the embarrassment of being caught staring. "I'll think about it." At least Alexander didn't berate Thomas for using his first name; that was a relief.

He'd have to accept that for now. Thomas gestured to the boxes, "Help me put this crap on the tree." When Alexander nodded, Thomas opened the first tub, and they set to work on hanging everything. It was enjoyable with the music in the background, both of them humming or bumping hips and elbows playfully. He really needed an excuse to kiss Alexander. Thomas noted that Alexander had too much fun tossing tinsel over the branches, and was doubly sure of the observation when Alexander surprised him by tossing that crap into his hair.

"Alexander, get this out of my hair, or I swear to g—"

"You'll what? We've been over thi—" Thomas had enough of dancing around it; he shut him up by pressing a quick kiss to Alexander's lips. It was just a peck, enough to startle Alexander into silence and to give Thomas the chance to feel what Alexander's lips felt like on his, without the teasing for show.

Despite how brief, Alexander still seemed breathless and shocked, eyes wide as he searched Thomas' face for something that would show that it wasn't a joke. Thomas was concerned that Alexander would walk away from him with how easily the man bolted from him whenever they seemed even remotely close.

Instead, Alexander surprised him by leaning forward, and whispering against Thomas' lips, "What do you want Thomas?"

He didn't hesitate to admit it to Alexander or himself, "You. Your baggage, your smile, your stupid bills, your horrible tastes in fashion, your calloused hands, yo—"

Alexander cut him off, stepping closer and raising to his toes to reach Thomas. A hand found its way into Thomas' hair, plucking out a piece of tinsel even as he was tugging Thomas closer. Thomas didn't argue and rested his hands on Alexander's hips, gently pulling him flush against him. The strain of the height difference had Thomas tugging Alexander to the couch and had the younger sit on his lap. With things more even, Thomas' hands found their way back to Alexander's hips, thumbs rubbing under the sweater and shirt against soft skin. Alexander's gasp, his shudder, had Thomas groaning quietly. Now if only he could—

"Thomas?" A hand waved in front of his face, and Thomas blinked away the fantasy, his face warming. Shit. "Thomas? Dude, you're worrying me..."

"S-sorry...I was just—excuse me." Thomas was on his feet and fleeing the living room to hide in his bedroom; he missed Alexander's hurt and worried expression.

He shouldn't have thought about any of that. It was dangerous and impractical, and Thomas wouldn't be able to get anything long term out of it, not like he wanted. Sure, a quick romp or two, but nothing lasting. Thomas leaned against the door he'd slammed shut behind him and slid down, resting his forehead against his knees.

"Dammit," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA! You thought he was finally gettin' some.  
> Thanks for the comments guys; you're so sweet and encouraging and I love it. :0)  
> I'll let you guys imagine where the daydream begins.  
> And if the kiss seemed sudden, well, ya know, day dream. I'm making you goobers wait a bit.  
> Also: for those of you that don't know what garanimala is, it's a clothing line for children that's basically color coded to help kids learn how to match their outfits. They're cute.


	14. Hot Chocolate Fixes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex tries to fix things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally deleted this chapter. Whoops.

Alex sighed, watching Jefferson run off. He'd noticed him staring, eyes studying his face, his lips and eyes and and and and—Alex had a feeling he knew what was going through Jefferson's head, but he didn't want to assume that it was the same idea that Alex was toying with. He was scared to admit it to himself, let alone allow himself to be hopeful that Jefferson was thinking about it.

But seeing Jefferson fleeing from Alex when Alex caught him staring, it—sort of hurt, but they'd never been the kindest to one another and a week of it wasn't enough to fix things after years of their rivalry. Jefferson wouldn't say “yes” to him.

His eyes and behavior the last few nights said otherwise. Jefferson had actually been kind and gentle with Alex. It was sweet and unnerving, and Alex didn't remember craving someone's adoration like this for a long while. He didn't know what to do with himself.

He couldn't remember how long it's been since someone was that—gentle with him, treating him like glass without it being insulting. Except for the coughing incident. Jefferson mentioning asthma had him paranoid, and he didn’t go outside much, even when the snow was growing by another two inches. Lucy and Mary begging him to go outside with them was painful; Alex didn’t like saying no to them, but now he was freaking out at the thought of going outside. And looking it up online just ended with him finding out he had lung cancer and would be dead in a few months without treatment. And wasn’t that helpful?

And untrue, but still.

Not the biggest problem here.

But why would Jefferson make a run for it? What was there to be embarrassed about? Should Alex have tried to send a similar signal? Was he not sending enough of one? And what was he supposed to do?

He needed an excuse see Thomas again.

Alex's eyes drifted to the abandoned hot chocolate, and that was as good an excuse as any.

Grabbing Thomas' mug, Alex quietly padded up the stairs to Thomas' room. Hesitantly, Alex raised a hand and knocked softly. There was shuffling before the door opened to Thomas standing there with wary eyes that seemed so weird after the many emotions that Alex had been treated to since they've come here. Alex didn't like it, and now it had thrown him off a bit. There was something unsettling about the sudden change.

"I—you forgot your hot chocolate. It fixes everything, promise." Thomas' expression didn't change, and Alex felt himself squirming, moving to run a hand through his hair and remembering too late that it was still pulled up. He tried and failed to hide the wince and carefully untangled his fingers from his hair with a grimace. Well, that did a lot of good.

The awkward silence and staring was making Alex more uncomfortable by the second. "Um—Thomas, are you okay? You just sort of—"

Thomas reached out and took the mug from Alex, leaving the doorway to put it on a side table, and it gave Alex a chance to peer inside. Thomas didn't turn around, stiff as he stood by the nightstand and Alex, scared that Thomas would kick him out at the drop of a hat if Alex crossed a line, started to take a step forward, but stopped. What the hell happened?

"You can go now, Hamilton. I think I'm going to turn in for the night." Alex's heart sank along with his shoulders at the words; Thomas had switched back to his last name. In the span of an hour, he’d started and then stopped again, and Alex was already missing the sound of Thomas saying it. Was there anything he could do to wheedle the problem out of him?

Thomas moved around the bedroom and began changing for bed, ignoring Alex's presence and wasn't that a kick in the gut? They'd been doing so well too. "Go away, Hamilton."

"No."

"Excuse me?" Thomas whirled around, tying the drawstring on his pajamas.

"You heard me. No."

Thomas looked as if he was about to argue with him, but he deflated. "What do you want, Hamilton?"

"I want to know if you're okay. You were grinning and laughing, and now you're calling me by my last name again and trying to lock yourself away. What happened?"

"Don't worry about it." That was a shitty answer, and Alex didn't like it. With a huff, Alex kicked off his shoes and made for the bed. "Hamilton, what are you doing?"

"You're going to bed? So am I." He yanked the blankets back and crawled under before tugging them to his chin, "I kept my socks on so, you know, no icy toes."

"Hamilton—"

"Alexander," he corrected.

"Not my bed. This is our two-day break from one another." Thomas moved to open his bedroom door a little wider, expecting Alex to get out and who stubbornly refused to do what Thomas wanted.

"Says the man that's hovered over me like a mother hen the last few days and then all but ordered me to help you decorate your house,” Alex grumbled, unsure if he actually wanted Thomas to hear that. “Sounds a lot like a cozy break to me.”

Thomas did, in fact, hear it and growled quietly to himself as he stalked towards Alex, yanking the blankets away from him. “Hamilton, I’m not kidding. Please get out.”

Alex had jerked down into the mattress, trying to escape when the cold air hit him, but he still refused to move. He was going to figure out a way to get Thomas smiling or snarling, one way or another. “Nope.” Thomas looked more irritated than wary now, and Alex, being as impulsive as he was, sat up enough to grab Thomas’ hand and yank him down onto the bed with him. Thomas’ shout of protest went ignored as Alex wrestled him onto his back and jerked the blankets back up.

“Now shut up and cuddle me, asshole.”

Thomas’ hands grabbed Alex like he was about to shove him off, only to fall limply at his side, “You’re relentless and an annoying little shit.”

“But I’m your favorite annoying little shit.” Alex scooted closer and rested his chin on Thomas’ chest, repeating the last time they’d curled up when he started studying Thomas’ features again. His beard was back in shape, and Alex both hated it and loved it; he wanted to run his fingers over it and see if it was soft or scratchy. Would it rub his skin raw if Thomas nuzzled him and no, not right now. Not a good time to think about that. But the stupidly perfect, well-kept beard made him start thinking, and he wound up snickering. “If you were ever a Disney villain, you’d totally be Scar or Gaston.”

“The hell, Alexander?” Thomas raised his head from the pillow, looking for all the world like Alex had just named Thomas as best actress at the Oscars. Yes, actress and not actor. Or, that he told Thomas that he was a princess. It was one thing for the girls to tease him about it, but to just outright say it? The outlandish statement would surely get Thomas back to his usual self; calling Alex an idiot or rolling his eyes every ten seconds would be a massive improvement.

“I don’t know. I was just looking at your beard, and it led to villains which resulted in Disney villains and those are the two I think you would be if you ever played one of them.”

“I’m not vain enough to be Gaston.” Alex raised a brow and pushed himself up a little on one arm. After a moment of Alex staring Thomas down, the taller sighed. “Maybe I’d be a little narcissistic…but I like the thought of me being Megamind. He has better facial hair.”

“That’s not even Disney,” Alex grumbled, dropping back down to resting his chin on Thomas’ chest.

“Yeah, but you’d make a great Roxanne Ritchie. The sarcasm and nosiness…very you. Like right now.” Thomas jerked away from the finger that jabbed him in the ribs.

“I am not nosy.” It was hard for Alex to sound irritated when Thomas finally relented and wrapped an arm around Alex to rest over his back, leaving Alex to all but melt into the warmth.

“You really are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“At least I’d be a hot reporter you'd be gaga for,” Alex snarked. “You’d be blue with a stupidly big head.”

“Yeah, but I’d have you and all of the hot toys.” The two instantly stopped to think about that choice of words, and apparently both of them had their minds in the gutters because Alex started snickering with Thomas following soon after. “You know what I meant you little pervert.”

“Nope. I didn’t know at all.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the arm around Alex pulled him more snugly against Thomas, and Alex threw his arm over Thomas’ middle. Alex could hear Thomas’ heartbeat when he pressed his ear to his chest, and it was a lulling noise that left him wanting to drift a bit. No, there was a reason he burst in here.

“Seriously, Thomas, are you okay? What happened? How can I help?” He shifted once more, tipping his head back to get a better look at Thomas; Alex needed to see his expression.

“I just—This is level 5 boyfriend shit so don’t spread this around—I was overthinking again, and my anxiety kicked in. I panicked and made a run for it.” Thomas avoided Alex’s eyes as he voiced the effect of the discomfort.

Guilt set in. They’d mentioned it; when they had issues with their environment, they would hide somewhere to come back down. Alex wondered if he should have listened when Thomas told him to get out, but Thomas didn’t do it when Alex had run off. He’d stayed, even if it had made Alex uncomfortable. Had he done it out of spite or was he genuinely concerned then? “Should I really have left when you told me to?”

Thomas’ answer was slow to come, but when he finally spoke again, he met Alex’s eyes. “Probably, but I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Are you feeling any better or do I need to do something foolish to jumpstart you into your usual asshole mode?” Thomas pinched Alex’s side for that, which had Alex squirming around and then lightly kicking Thomas for it.

“When I’m having a shit day at work, I seek you out and push your buttons. You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, by the way. You’re what, a hundred pounds soaking wet? It’s like a Chihuahua trying to go against a Leonburger. OW!” Another jab was delivered to the ribs, and an “I’m one forty thank you very much” was muffled in Thomas’ shirt. “It helps clear my head of whatever has me on edge. So, here you are, trying to piss me off—I hate to say it, but it helps, and I’m glad for it.”

“Was—there something that triggered it? So that I can help you avoid it next time?” The arm around Alex squeezed him tightly in response.

Thomas shook his head slowly and relaxed back into the pillow, eyes falling closed. “Is it bad to say you’re the cause and the solution?”

Alex was unsure of any serious response to that, and so he went with, “That’s like having MRSA but being allergic to every antibiotic in existence. My enemy, you’re screwed.” That’s what I was thinking a little while ago, Thomas mused. “So there’s not much I can do.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t do anything. I’m not sure—how to approach it if I ever will.” Their eyes met again, and Alex swore there was something there, pleading maybe? Was that the right way to describe Thomas’ eyes? What could he want so badly?

“I’m—here when and if you’re—ever ready, Thomas.” Alex voiced this slowly, trying to ensure he chose his words carefully rather than rushing into lending an ear or hand. That may not have been the right answer; Thomas suddenly looked pained and frustrated. Now Alex really didn’t know what to do. Why the hell couldn’t the man pick a feeling and stick with it? It had been easier when Thomas had one setting: annoy the hell out of Alex with a smug smirk and plague Alex’s thoughts when he wasn’t at work.

“Would you stay if I asked you to?”

That’s a loaded question, Alex thought mildly. Stay in bed with him? Stay here in this agreement with him? Stay with him at his side outside of this? The hardly restrained desperation was back in Thomas’ eyes and maybe fear. Fear of rejection then?

The compassion, sweet smiles, the unrestrained laughs, and then the incident in the living room. And now.

Alex offered Thomas his most reassuring smile and raised up to kiss his cheek, “Yeah; you can’t get rid of me that easily, bean pole.”

All of the tension in Thomas’ body seemed to release at once—Alex hadn’t realized how tightly coiled Thomas was until the body beneath him softened into the bed. “Thank you,” he breathed.

And that was enough for the moment.

They settled under the blankets together, curled up and finally letting the awkwardness seep away. ‘I guessed right’ ran through Alex’s mind briefly. Yes, it would be weird when they got up in a few hours, but for now, they could forget about it and bask in the brief moment of comfort. They would be at each other’s throats again, eventually, and they’d start harassing one another from the time they woke up, like usual, but their words wouldn’t be as biting.

Alex had let slip a few things to Thomas that he hadn’t told anyone since coming along and Thomas admitted to having anxiety and using Alex—without him knowing at the time—to relax and ground himself. The short of it was, they’d had a long week and a longer day, and they’d danced around this since they got here. It was nice to let it go.

As he felt himself drifting off, Alex heard Thomas whisper a goodnight. And wasn’t that sweet?


	15. Showing Up Late With Raspberry White Mocha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas shows up late with coffee.  
> Alex accepts the apology.  
> Alex is a little tease.  
> Lazy days are great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short and fluffy and kind of a filler.  
> Thomas is the mom friend......among other things.

Alex wasn't happy with Thomas when he returned to Monticello that morning. He'd woken to a cold bed and that uncomfortable wrinkly feeling of having slept in your day clothes. Thomas was nowhere to be found and Alex, disappointed that the man had left him alone in bed, flopped back down onto the mountain of pillows Thomas insisted on sleeping with, huffing. His source of warmth and comfort was gone, the source of what had been one of the best nights of sleep in his life had deserted him for wherever.

The house was silent and still aside from the occasional, obligatory creaking one could find in a timeworn home. If he strained his ears, Alex imagined he might hear the soft tip-tip of the snow hitting the ground outside. When he grew bored of laying around without Thomas, he slowly crawled out of bed to look out the window. The snow had fallen again, a thicker blanket over the beautiful grounds, but Alex thought he still saw a patch of dry grass here and there. Maybe he'd wait a little for the snow to keep falling before he dragged Thomas out into it. Until then...

Alex started going through Thomas' dresser and closet until he found something clean and warm to change into. There. Now he would have his revenge, wrapped in Thomas' sweaters and flaunting it in front of Thomas whenever he found the man. That'll teach him to leave Alex alone in the bed again, which left a cold spot, which meant that Alex was cold, which was a tragedy and would end with Alex in a bad mood. Thomas was lucky that the night before ended so well or Alex may have been grouchy all morning over it.

Swiping another pair of Thomas' wool socks, Alex padded down the hallway and down the stairs to make himself coffee. Thomas was gone and after shooting him a text to ask where he was, Alex settled with his coffee by a window and a blanket to study the snow white world outside.

He was halfway through his mug when Thomas drove up, a drink carrier in hand. Alex didn't get up from the comfortable chaise, choosing to wait for Thomas to come through the door and stomp his feet on the rug to remove the snow. When Thomas came into the room, he strode to the chaise and leaned over to kiss Alex's cheek.

"Sorry I'm late, but I tried to hurry before you woke up." He pulled out a Starbucks cup, smiling sheepishly. "There's a white chocolate raspberry mocha for you."

Alex decided this was an acceptable apology and leaned up to kiss Thomas before he started drinking down the coffee. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Alexander—what are you wearing?"

Smirking, Alex set the cup on the side table and stood up, giving a tiny smile. "I don't know. You tell me." He was pleased to see Thomas' eyes darken as they ran top to bottom.

Thomas tugged him forward to steal another kiss from him. "You're a damn tease, Alexander. Holy shit. You know how frustrating it was for me the other night when you borrowed my stuff to sleep in? My word—I wasn't sure where to look."

"Well, feel free to look wherever you'd like, whenever you like."

"Don't tempt me." And Alex felt Thomas' hands sliding to grip his hips.

"Maybe later." With that, Alex pulled away and grabbed his coffee, taking a long drink. "What is on today's schedule?"

"Finish decorating, and then we'll see. I thought that we could just relax and have a lazy day." Thomas pulled his coffee out of the carrier and took a swig of his own. "Unless you had something better in mind?"

Alex gave a quick shake of his head, "Nope. Lazy sounds good. I might pull out my laptop for a bit, though. I have work to catch up on."

"I thought you were a year ahead in all of your work?" Thomas draped himself over the chaise, coffee in hand and after another sip, he set it on the side table by Alex's. "Join me for a bit?"

Alex scrambled to crawl onto Thomas' lap and settle between his legs. When Thomas draped the blanket over them again, Alex was all too happy to press back against Thomas' chest for extra warmth.

"You're exaggerating. It's only eleven months," he joked. "Asshole." His hand found Thomas' and Alex laced their fingers together. "I was upset with you when I woke up, and you were gone. The whole, stealing your clothes thing was supposed to be revenge, sort of, but it backfired."

"How did it backfire?"

"I was really looking forward to being held, and so I lacked restraint to continue the tease of look but don't touch."

Thomas lightly plucked at the neck of the sweater, quickly revealing Alex's shoulder. "Trust me, you continuing to wear them is torture enough. Your shoulders are sinful." Thomas leaned down and nipped at him, causing Alex to yelp and jerk away.

"Excuse you."

"Look, I've wanted to do that for a while now."

Alex adjusted himself to look over his shoulder, "How long?"

"Since first seeing you in a sweater, although the fantasy came from waking up in the library and knocking you to the floor, with you rubbing your eyes the way you were and it was completely unfair." Alex noted the slight blush and grinned, reaching up to pinch his cheek.

"And what fantasy was that?"

"You in my clothes with the shoulder hanging off on one side while you did the eye rub thing and yawning. It's—weird—and kind of oddly cute—but yeah."

"So is this a kink of yours?" Oh, Alex would love teasing him about that.

"What? I—I no! Alexander, no I don't." Alex thought Thomas' expression said otherwise. He apparently said this out loud because Thomas huffed, "Get that thought out of your head right now."

"Never." Thomas nipped at his ear next, but Alex still didn't relent. Thomas was just as stubborn and would have happily continued had Alex's stomach not gurgled.

"You didn't eat breakfast, did you?" Thomas sighed in exasperation and started to pull the blanket off.

"I forgot it in my search for revenge and my need for coffee before anything else." Alex hadn't meant to forget but...well, things happen.

"Omelets it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas finds smol Alex to be very appealing and Alex is going to use it against him at some point to get what he wants. Thomas will gladly bend.
> 
> And hey thanks for commenting and hmu on tumblr guys! I appreciate you all and go look at the link for fanart I out up I think two chapters ago? Someone made a very cute Alex freezing his butt off picture and it is—I died a little. So cute!  
> And someone else is thinking of doing a spin-off of this one and I'm so excited for what they're going to write and I know it'll be great!  
> But yeah, thanks for stopping in and yelling at me, laughing at/with me, and just generally being a fantastic bunch. You guys are fantastic.


	16. All He Wants For Christmas Is Thomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When friends come to call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm two days behind.

   Thomas couldn't believe it. Alexander Hamilton was curled up on his lap, laptop resting on his knees, and allowing Thomas to run his fingers through Alexander's hair. Thomas had a book in his free hand while he spoiled Alexander in attention. Alexander, for his part, did absolutely nothing to contribute aside from dozing off on Thomas, leaving the older male scrambling to catch the laptop before it hit the floor without waking Alexander.

He slept so little that Thomas silently hoped that this holiday of theirs would help Alexander catch up a little. It was working so far; Thomas didn't think Alexander had slept this much all year and it'd only been two weeks. So he was content to let the smaller curled up on him. After carefully closing the laptop and sliding it onto the coffee table, Thomas carefully lifted Alexander and scooted further down the couch. Alexander was moved to lay in front of him, and Thomas wrapped himself around him. He let his eyes roam, soaking up every detail he could. Even after two weeks of his mother trying to stuff Alexander with food, the man was still so thin, and Thomas could feel his ribs under his arms. He ran one hand carefully down Alexander's chest, checking to see if it felt like anything had changed. Very little, but there was at least something there. He switched to gently brushing the hair from his face, smiling when he saw that his complexion was healthier; there was more color to it, fewer traces of exhaustion and holy shit there were a few freckles. How had he not noticed that?

After a while, Thomas found himself drifting in and out of consciousness, almost settling for sleep before Alexander squirmed to push back into him, effectively yanking Thomas to wakefulness. He finally had to rest a hand on Alexander's hip to keep him from bumping into him again because dammit it wasn't an appropriate time for that, despite the interest. He was just beginning to relax again—everything was coming down—when Alexander twitched and kicked him in the shin.

"Ffff—" Thomas stopped himself from letting out any sounds of pain and suffering as he scowled at the back of Alexander's head. Even in his sleep, the guy could be an annoying little shit. The contented look on Alexander's face, the almost-smile, drove away most of his irritation. That was adorable, but not in the puppy video sort of way; the younger was just—Thomas had no words.

It took him a little while longer to fall asleep finally, and it seemed like it was only a few minutes when he heard a door opening somewhere. Thomas was too out of it to wake up enough to see what was going on, but that question was solved when the click of someone's cellphone camera. One eye opened to find the grinning face of Gilbert above him.

Lafayette was here. Wasn't he supposed to come later on? Wednesday or something... He was too tired to think about that.

"You both are so cute!" his friend whispered. "I had to get a picture."

"Shut up Lafayette," he mumbled, stealing a glance at Alexander to make sure they hadn't wakened him.

Lafayette pouted slightly—Thomas now knew where Alexander learned it from—and Thomas felt his resolve crumbling. What the hell was it about the people in his life manipulating him by pouting? "But seriously, are you two...?"

Thomas nodded, and Lafayette nearly squealed as he clapped his hands, "It's about time!"

Alexander huffed and made a swatting motion above them, mumbling, "Stop talking."

After giving him a gentle squeeze, Thomas began to shake Alexander awake. "Lafayette came early, Alexander. Come on. Wake up." When nothing happened, Thomas pinched Alexander's belly. "Come on pipsqueak and get up."

It took a little more coaxing and promises of a pot of coffee, but Alexander eventually sat up and smiled sleepily at Lafayette. Then, it seemed to dawn on him as to who was there and he shot up and scurried to wrap his arms around Lafayette. "You're here! Thomas said you would be coming later on."

"I can leave and come back another time if you two need to..."

Alexander swatted his friend, "No! I'm happy to see you; I've missed you."

"Alex, it has not even been two weeks."

"Yeah, but I'm used to seeing your beautiful face every day. Not having you around is just weird." Alexander didn't let go, only buried his face into Lafayette's coat and breathing him in. One of his greatest friends was here, and Alex couldn't be more excited as Lafayette squeezed him just as tightly.

"Alex, I'm going to suffocate at this rate."

"Don't care." He could feel Lafayette's chuckle through his chest and only when Thomas cleared his throat behind him did he finally pull away and smile at him. "Jealous?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Don't worry Thomas; I'm not stealing him away from you." Lafayette flashed Thomas a knowing smirk and wrapped an arm around Alexander's waist to get a rise out of Thomas. It worked. To appease Thomas, Alexander pulled away from Lafayette and all but pranced to Thomas' side.

"Oh, stop that. All I want for Christmas is you." He heard Lafayette snort behind him and softly hum the tune to the song of the same name. Alexander ignored him in favor of kissing Thomas' cheek. "And all of your sweaters and wool socks."

"Why do you want to take all of my clothes? I mean, I like seeing you in them but..."

"He steals everyone's things. About a third of his sweaters are John's," Lafayette explained.

"I can help it that I like to keep you guys close." Alexander continued to grumble to himself and started for the door. "I need coffee."

Thomas and Lafayette shared a look and followed behind. "I told you I'd make it; I've got it."

Lafayette motioned between the two of them, "So, when did you two...?"

"Last night, actually." Thomas started tossing the grounds into the press and started the process of making Alexander's coffee.

"I ruined the honeymoon phase, didn't I? Oh, but you two were so cute cuddled up together like that!" Lafayette pulled his phone out and immediately brought up the pictures he'd taken and showed them to Alexander and Thomas. "See? Adorable. And it's about damn time you two got your acts together. I had come prepared to hang mistletoe over your stupid heads to get you two to smooch."

"Laf, please don't." Alex had settled at the breakfast bar and was cutting up fruit to go with bowls of yogurt.

"Hush. And I will send them to you both." He started typing furiously on the screen, only to smirk and hold it out for Alexander to see. "I also sent it to our friends."

"Laf, you asshole. I don't want them knowing yet!" Alexander groaned and dropped his face into his folded arms on the counter. "Oh dear...I don't need them knowing about that."

His phone went off in his pocket, and he grimaced as he pulled it out. Washington. Aaand it was a congratulation on finding a way to make peace with Thomas; he echoed Lafayette's words about it being about time that they got over themselves. "Washington was the first to say congrats. Dammit."

"Well, you still got your wish, Alex." Alexander looked up at Lafayette. "All you wanted for Christmas was Thomas."

"I swear if you start singing that song--" Lafayette began to sing the song Alexander hated so much. "Please kill me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo  
> Go check out Lilapollo's fic here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8844133  
> They're making a spinoff of my fic with Trans!Alex, so don't panic if you see it updating. They have total permission.


	17. The Naughty List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look at that title.  
> It's not what you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this one until the end and then I hurt myself.

Things just got stranger from there. Everyone texted Alex and Thomas, demanding that they explain the what happened and why on earth would Alex find Thomas attractive? Alex had stolen a quick look at Thomas at that and smirked to himself. Who wouldn't think the man was hot? It was entirely obvious that he was a catch. Alex didn't think anyone else would also pose as a good challenge for him either; who could compete with the idiot he always went toe to toe with?

He was lucky; he had quickly discovered.

Alex ate his yogurt quietly and enjoyed the quiet until Thomas broke the silence, "Oh! I meant to tell you. Ma texted me and asked if we would take the girls to the mall to see Santa. Are Y'all OK with that?"

The other two nodded excitedly and Alex was on his feet instantly. "I'll go wash up and get dressed. I should be done in no time." Without waiting for an answer, Alex was bounding out of the room and making for the guest room.

 

\--

 

With Alexander gone, Laf turned to Thomas and smirked, arms folding as he leaned against the counter. "I am so happy for you both. My two best friends, in love and cuddling. I couldn't be more proud."

Thomas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling at Laf. "I mean, I liked having his attention anyway, and this was...I don't know. I finally see that he's human and not just someone annoying to harass for fun."

"Yes, well, you're lucky. Both of you are. You two are too smart and stubborn for anyone else anyway." Laf did a small motion, dismissing it, "And I was tired of you both moping and giving each other bedroom eyes."

"I did not have bedroom eyes for him!" Thomas wanted to melt through the floor. Right there. Right now. Please melt.

"Mmhmm."

"I don't."

 

\--

 

They stopped by Shadwell to pick up the girls, and Alex took the seat in the back with them so that Lafayette would have some leg room. It wasn't so bad; both girls were vying for his attention and Alex was struggling to keep up with them long enough to make it even. The girls chattered on endlessly and Alex was smiling the whole time, asking questions now and then to keep them engaged. Thomas and Lafayette were having their own conversation, but Alex couldn't catch much of it without missing something the girls said. They were both smiling, though, so that was good.

The mall was crowded and, worried about losing the girls, Lafayette and Thomas carried them on their shoulders. Mary and Lucy loved every second of it, and Alex was enjoying watching them laugh and talk the ears off of Lafayette and Thomas; it was their turn. Alex was sandwiched between Thomas and Lafayette because they were worried about losing Alex in the crowd too.

"It's because you're so tiny," Lafayette teased.

"Excuse you, but I am in the range of the average height of American men."

Thomas chimed in with, "Are you sure you weren't standing on your tiptoes when they measured you?"

Thomas and Lafayette snickered to themselves while Alex decided to stew quietly. He wasn't that short, was he? Thomas and Lafayette were just freakishly tall. He shot them both a glare, which only set them off again.

"Jerks," he grumbled.

The girls started squirming around excitedly when they saw the setup for Santa and his elves, clapping and turning Thomas' head in the direction of Santa's Shop. "Girls, you're going to need to have some patience here."

"But--"

"We still have to get in line," Lafayette explained. "We take turns, remember?"

Alex knelt in front of them when they were set down, whispering to them, "And cutting in line would put us all on the Naughty List. You don't want that do you?" They shook their heads quickly, eyes growing to the size of saucers. It was comical, how quickly they calmed down at the threat of the Naughty List.

"I know someone who wouldn't mind one of us being on the Naughty List?" Alex looked up to see Lafayette smirking and Thomas blushing. Oh. Him? He really needed to steer this conversation in a different direction.

"I am an angel. I don't go on the Naughty List." Thomas snorted at that and tugged Alex back up.

"Keep telling yourself that, but I'll be sure to let Santa know what you've been up to."

"Santa already knows!" Lucy cried. "He knows if Alex has been good or bad."

"See? She knows what's up."

Thomas pinched his side, "We'll discuss the truth of that later." Alex noted the smirk and the gleam in Thomas' eyes; he felt his face heat up.

"Get a room," Lafayette mumbled.

Mary and Lucy made sure that Alex, Thomas, and Lafayette knew what they wanted for Christmas, and then asked the three men what they wanted.

Lafayette went first, "To return to France to see my sweetheart."

"A new coat." Of course, Thomas wants another tailored coat that'll blind anyone that looks at it.

"What about you, Alex?"

He looked away from Lucy, who had asked him the question, and stared across the mall a moment. What did he want? He wanted to see his mother again, but that wouldn't happen until he died, whenever that was; Alex, for the longest time, didn't think he'd live very long. Life hadn't been kind to him, so why would he be allowed to enjoy a long life? He didn't want to see his father again, ever, although he did wish to know why he left in the first place. It wasn't something he NEEDED to have, but he did--"I want Thomas to sign my bill."

"In your dreams."

"You promised."

"Is there a contract?"

Alex wanted to kick himself. Of course, he'd find himself in this mess. He should have known better than to trust that Thomas would keep his word on that agreement and dammit he was already here and falling hard for the guy. It was just his luck.

Thomas seemed to catch on to the panic setting in in Alex's head and amended, "I'm kidding, Alexander! We made a deal. I'm a jerk sometimes, but I wouldn't go back on a promise like that."

But now the idea was already in his head, and Alex was forcing himself not to overthink it. Stop. Thomas said he would help; he's helping. "Right."

Thomas found his hand and gave it a small squeeze and didn't let go as they neared the front of the line. The girls went together and Lafayette was more than happy to be the one to record the whole encounter. Mary and Lucy were ecstatic about seeing Santa and scrambled onto his lap. The whole scene was cute; their faces had lit up, and they were giggling. Alex felt himself smiling at the sight and wondered if he'd ever have kids and get to watch them do this.

"Your turn, Alexander."

Alex shook himself from his thoughts and turned his attention to Thomas. "Sorry, what?"

"To sit on Santa's lap and tell him what you want for Christmas." Oh, that smirk. Alex was going to get him back for this.

"I'm a grown man."

"A man? Yes. Grown? No. You look twelve, go on." Thomas gave Alex a nudge forward, him and Lafayette laughing at the sight of Alex stiffly sitting on the mall Santa's lap. He swore his face felt redder than the older gentleman's coat.

"So young man, do you know what you want for Christmas?" Alex exhaled slowly and met the man's eyes. This was so weird.

"Honestly, I don't know." His eyes darted to Thomas, who was smiling at him, and then back. Actually, he did know. Leaning over, he whispered, "I just want to be part of a family."

The man leaned away to get a good look at Alex, who was avoiding his eyes and clearly distressed about the whole thing. His attention went to Thomas, and he chuckled, "I think, Alexander, that you already are, but I'll see what I can do."

Alex whipped his head around, feeling his blush coming back, "I um, thanks." He didn't believe it but okay.

"Now go get your boy because I see a few moms eyeing him."

"Oh hell no," Alex grumbled, ignoring the rumbling laughter behind him as he scurried to Thomas' side and shot a look at the moms the Santa was talking about. "Cookies. We need cookies or something."

"What did you ask Santa for Christmas, Alex?" Lucy held onto his hand tightly and tugged to get his attention.

"Can you keep a secret?" Probably not. When she nodded, he scooped her up and whispered, "I want someone to see me as part of their family. I don't have a family."

Lucy gasped and jerked back, eyes wide. "Yes, you are! You're in mine!" Her little arms wrapped around his neck and Alex had to stop walking to hug her tightly.

"Thank you, Lucy. It's a secret, though, remember?"

"Pinky promise." Lucy held up her little hand, pinky out, and Alex was quick to link his in hers.

"Pinky promise."

Thomas stopped walking and shot them a look, "What is she going on about?"

Alex and Lucy met each other's eyes and grinned, saying as one, "Nothing."

"That's terrifying. You two shouldn't be together anymore. I fear for my life here."

Lafayette linked his arm in Thomas', "I think someone is jealous, but I'll protect you anyway."

"Laf, I don't need protecting."

Alex faked an evil laugh, "Yes, you do." Lucy and Mary lost it.


	18. White Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times in the snow.  
> Smooches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They hint at the shenanigans they got up to, but no smut. Sorry guys. :0)

Later that evening, Thomas, Laf, and Alexander were all sitting in front of the fire, mugs in hand as they chatted and caught one another up on everything that had happened since they'd last seen one another. Thomas had yet to stop pestering Alexander about what he'd whispered to the mall Santa and Lucy. Alexander had yet to break, much to the annoyance of Thomas.

"I'll make you sleep on the couch," he threatened.

"No, you won't," Alexander countered.

"I will!"

Laf snorted, "No, you won't."

"Yeah, I won't." Alexander, to appease him, scooted closer and rested his head on Thomas' shoulder, batting his eyes at him until Thomas scoffed and lightly shoved Alexander off. "Oh, no you don't. No puppy eyes."

"You two are disgusting. Peggy is going to love this." Laf had apparently taken another picture and was sending it to Peggy who was with her own family.

"Please stop snap-chatting our lives to everyone." Alexander buried his face in Thomas' shoulder, flushing with embarrassment.

"Never. What is it John says? Can't stop, won't stop. Besides, this is exciting! It will finally be quiet around the White House!" Both Thomas and Alexander burst into laughter. "You know what? You're right. It'll never be quiet...although it will be for a different reason now."

Alexander chucked a pillow at Laf, "I thought Herc was supposed to be the pervert!"

Laf caught it in the air without looking away from Alexander, the smirk growing. "Well, he's not here, so the job falls to me."

"Ugh."

"That's what he said."

"Laf, I swear on Thomas' maman, I will string you up by your toes."

"Alexander, don't you dare swear on my mother. That's my job."

Alexander made a dismissive gesture, "Hush. Sit there and look pretty a moment. And another thing Laf, you and I ne--"

"Okay, I think it's time for bed, don't you?" Thomas had to save his friend while he still could.

Laf winked at him when Alexander turned around to glare at Thomas. "No."

"I second this. Let's turn in for the night. The filles wore me out." Laf stood and stretched before grabbing his mug and making for the kitchen. "Good night you disgusting pair of sweethearts."

Alexander was about to snap at him, but Thomas headed him off before he could by turning Alexander's face to kiss him softly, "Hush. I'm tired too. Crowds and I don't mix."

That caught Alexander's attention, and he crawled off of Thomas' lap, holding a hand out to help him up. The pair cleaned up the mess in the library and put out the fire before making for Thomas' room. Thomas turned away to let Alexander have a moment of privacy, but when he turned around, he found Alexander draped over the bed and eyeing Thomas as he was trying to change.

"Do you mind?"

Alexander grinned and shook his head, "Nope. Not at all."

Thomas huffed and finished changing, watching how Alexander was staring at him appreciatively. "Do you like what you see?"

"How about you come over here, and we can talk about it." Thomas didn't waste the invitation and hopped onto the bed beside Alexander, immediately kissing him. He felt Alexander melt beneath him, even as his hand reached up to rest on the back of Thomas' neck. One of them hummed...or maybe it was a moan, Thomas couldn't tell and didn't care. He had his Alexander here; that's what mattered.

 

\--

 

The next day, everyone headed back to Shadwell, and Alexander was staring out the window on the drive over. Thomas smiled to himself; it was the same look Alexander had at the market. He knew better than to tease him this time.

It seemed like everyone was just getting settled inside when Mary and Lucy came charging down the stairs, making the ruckus of a herd of elephants. They tried to stop Alexander from taking his gloves off.

"No! Come play outside with us!"

He looked up to meet Thomas' eyes with one brow raised. Do we or don't we? When Thomas nodded, Alexander sighed and put all of his layers back on, including the mountain of scarves.

"Okay, but I can't be outside too long, or I'll get sick." The cold didn't agree with him anyway, but with the coughing, Thomas didn't want Alexander to push it. The girls didn't seem to care so long as they went out to play with them.

Alexander, Laf, and Thomas were tugged out the back door and into the snow. Alexander had to stop a moment and look out at the endless blankets of white that stretched out before him. It was beautiful. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the chill and sterile scented air. Alexander seemed to relax as his shoulders fell. All of the tension from past days had dissipated.

Until a ball of ice whopped him in the side of the head.

Alexander yelped and ducked forward, holding his hands over his head. "All right. Who threw that."

Thomas pointed at Mary, but everyone was pointing at him. "Traitors." When Alexander turned around, there was a vengeful look in his eye and Thomas knew that he'd screwed up. He started to take off, but the girls got in his way to stop him. Thomas found himself falling on his ass as he twisted away to miss Mary and Lucy. That is how he found a snowball hitting him square in the chest. "Ow!"

"Serves you right."

Thomas started trying to ball up another snowball. "Who's on whose team?" Lucy called Alex, Mary called him, and Laf decided to get out of their way and record their play. Smart man. "Mary, we need walls! Build a fort with me!"

The pair scrambled to try and build a wall to protect them from Alexander and Lucy's snowballs. The other two darted off to do the same, calling out orders to one another as they tried to prepare for battle. Alexander decided to fight dirty and told Lucy to go ahead and start throwing snowballs at them, and he'd finish the wall. If his goal was to slow Thomas and Mary down, he succeeded.

"Alexander, I will end you!" Thomas shouted when a snowball skidded over his head, messing up his hair and leaving a quickly melting trail of white.

"Lucy threw it!"

"But you told her to!"

Thomas chucked another chunk of packed snow at Alexander and his wall of snow, smacking him in the chest. Alexander looked as if Thomas had just told him he was a shit writer; the insulted expression was enough to have Thomas questioning his choice to throw a snowball at him. That moment of pity was dismissed the moment Alexander started balling up the snow quickly and throwing snowball after snowball at Thomas. He hit him about three out of five times. It was enough to force Thomas to end his work on the wall and help Mary ball up snowballs to throw at Lucy and Alexander.

The battle continued for an age as everyone tired themselves out throwing ice at one another. Alexander cheated again by kidnapping Mary and convincing her to help him and Lucy team up against Thomas. It worked for only a moment because the little turd turned on them and claimed that she was a spy; Thomas was proud of her. He hopped up and started chasing Alexander and Lucy with Mary racing beside him. Alexander called for Lucy to split up and the two darted in opposite directions. Lucy didn't have a problem with changing course. Alexander, however, skidded a little as he tried to dart off in a different direction. He slipped and wound up on his ass, but he was up in a split second and taking off. Mary ran after Alexander, so Thomas chased Lucy. He caught her easily and picked her up, blowing a raspberry against her neck.

"I win!"

"Nuh-uh! You cheated!"

Thomas snorted and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her around. "How did I cheat?"

"You're bigger than me! You ran too fast."

Thomas could hear the pout in her voice, but it only had him laughing as he set her down on a small snowdrift. "Okay, but you gotta help me."

Lucy crossed her arms and gave him a disinterested expression, "Why should I?"

Why did that remind him of Alexander? No wonder these two got along.

"Because we're all going to attack Uncle Laf. Catch your sister; I'll catch Alex, and then the four of us will chase Laf. Sound good?"

She considered it, and after a moment, she spat into her hand and held it out, "Deal." That was disgusting. The things he does for his nieces.

Thomas faked spitting into his hand and shook her hand, "Deal." Lucy ran off to find Mary and Thomas discreetly wiped his hand on his pants, grimacing.

When he finished, he searched for Alexander and found him a ways away, but he was jogging back, presumably to find Lucy to save her. Perfect. Thomas charged up the hill, fully intending to tackle Alexander into the nearest snowdrift or something, but Alexander narrowly escaped when he jumped out of the way. This left Thomas yelping when he tumbled down the hill on the other side.

"Thomas!"

Thomas finally stopped his descent, no longer rolling or bouncing. He could only lay there a moment in shock as he stared up at the blue-gray skies above. Feet crunching and sliding in the snow nearby had Thomas turning to find Alexander skidding to a halt beside him.

"Shit, Thomas, are you okay?" He was breathing heavily and coughed into his elbow. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was slipping out from under his hat. Thomas hadn't seen anything so beautiful.

He didn't answer and waited until Alexander leaned over him to check on him to grab Alexander's arms and roll them to pin Alexander beneath him.

"I'm better now, thanks." He got a mouthful of snow for that, but he didn't let up.

"Oh go screw yourself on a shovel."

Thomas' smirked and leaned in to kiss him, "Sounds fun, but I'd rather enjoy your ass--" Alexander shut him up by tugging him down for another kiss. It was dizzying, faster than the night before had been, but they slowed down again when they heard the girls calling for them. Thomas and Alexander were grinning at one another and scrambled to duck behind a snowdrift. Alexander had to stifle another cough to keep the girls from hearing him by closing his mouth and covering it with his scarves and hands. He thought they were going to ambush the girls, but Thomas had a better idea when he stopped coughing and tugged Alexander onto his lap to kiss him. Oh. So they were hiding for this.

Alexander readily agreed with Thomas' plan but he struggled to kiss Thomas through his smile.

"Quit smiling," Thomas mumbled.

"Make me."

He tugged the scarf down to nip at Alexander's neck, which had Alexander squirming in Thomas' arms instantly. "Thomas, Mary and Lucy are looking for us."

"Don't care," the taller mumbled as he continued to trail down Alexander's neck, finding the few places he'd marked up the night before and smirking when Alexander gasped. Yep, still sensitive.

Thomas was ready to leave a new one to commemorate the moment, but Alexander managed to pull away long enough to cough again. "Sorry."

Thomas smiled and pecked his lips, "Don't be. I'll continue where we left off tonight."

The blush on Alexander's face was not from the cold.


	19. In Which Lafayette Is A Sweetheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls accidentally blab.  
> Alex feels forced into telling his story.  
> Pain all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of abuse, death, and suicide but they're non-graphic and not detailed.

Thomas, Lafayette, and Alex crowded into the living room with the rest of the adults, huddled together to warm up. Alex could hardly hold his mug of coffee, and when he was able to hold it, the heat started to bring feeling back into his fingers, and he wound up with the itchy, tingly, ants marching under your skin feeling. Lafayette noticed him grimacing and rubbing his hands on his legs to rid himself of it and smirked to himself.

"Alex, you poor thing. Is Thomas not going to take care of you and your ice cold hands? Here, allow me." Lafayette took Alex's hands and made eye contact with Thomas while he blew on Alex's hands to warm them. Alex gave Lafayette a "blink-blink-what's-going-on?" look and glanced at Thomas, hoping to find answers. Oh. Thomas didn't like that. Lafayette winked at him and let go.

"Better? Shame on Thomas." There was huff beside him, and Alex had to stifle a laugh. Shaking his head, he ignored Thomas narrowing his eyes at Lafayette and Lafayette grinning over him. This was how he found an arm wrapped around him and Thomas tugging him closer.

"Laf, I swear that--"

"Tommy, don't swear in polite company. You know better," Mrs. Jefferson scolded.

That was the tipping point that had Alex in stitches at Thomas' expression. "Old man being called out on his rude behavior. I love this family."

"We love you too Alex!" Lucy came bounding in with Mary and her mother trailing behind her. Alex, Thomas, Lafayette, and the girls had to change into dry clothes when they came back in, but everyone collectively agreed that it was totally worth it.

She hopped into Alex's lap, and Mary quickly joined her, forcing Lucy to scoot over so that they could share. When they settled, Lucy and Mary kissed his cheeks. "You're family too." He tensed and looked at Lucy. Shit. She wasn't supposed to say anything about the family and oh dear.

Mary continued for Lucy, "Momma told me you are too."

Alex turned his attention to Lucy, whispering, "You weren't supposed to tell."

"Oops."

Alex groaned and pressed his face into the girl's poofy hair, sighing in exasperation. Just once he'd like to tell someone something and it not get around. Why the hell did he think it would be any different with the girls? He pulled away, rubbing at his face. Alex ignored any of the odd looks people were sending him and went back to drinking his coffee. Lafayette was glancing at him worriedly, and it annoyed Alex to no end. Instead of saying anything about it, he hugged the girls closer to him and leaned to the side until he was halfway on Thomas' lap; the girls were adjusted into a pile on top of him and suddenly everything was good again.

They talked for what seemed like an age, and it wasn't until the girls were sent off to bed that Elizabeth spoke up and asked Alex what Lucy and Mary were talking about.

Alex sat up and fiddled with the scarf Thomas had bought him, tugging and releasing. Should he answer? He didn't want to guilt trip them over something so...ridiculous. "We uh, when we went to see Santa, Thomas forced me to go talk to him, and the girls drilled me after for what I asked for Christmas so...it had something to do with that." He glanced up and saw Lucy watching him; she knew. Alex could tell that much about her expression. "I basically said I wanted a family." And he tried to leave it at that. He did. But Thomas squeezing his hand seemed to be what opened the flood gates for him.

"I uh, my father left and went back to Irland when I was little, and I'm thankful that I don't remember much of him. Come to find out that he had a family back there and some estate to take care of or something. I haven't seen or heard from him since the day he left. My brother disappeared shortly after. I don't know what happened to him. My mother...did what she had to in order to pay rent and keep us fed. It wasn't always dignified work either, although she tried to keep her nightly work away from the apartment." One of the worst things someone could call him was a whore; few knew that that's what his mother did to keep them afloat. "We were sick when I was twelve, and I thought she had enough to pay for medicine for both of us. It wasn't until after I woke up to find her dead and stiff around me that I realized that she had kept that tidbit from me. I was so pissed at her. It felt like she'd given up and left too."

Another squeeze of his hand and Alex pulled away from it to go back to fiddling with the scarf. "Was sent to live with a cousin who was abusive and I have never been happier about someone offing themselves. I was glad to be rid of that piece of shit. A hurricane destroyed the town and half of the island shortly after that. Was sent here and bounced around from foster home to foster home. I hated all but one of those places. Graduated early, went to college on a full ride, and all of that eventually led to here and now. I had interned for a time under Washington and just sort of followed him after that. He and Martha were the closest thing to family, but I've tried to keep distance so that I wouldn't be in the way of their families.

"So, yeah. I'd meant it as a joke, but it didn't really have the effect that I was hoping for."

And there it was. Everything was pushed into a summary of his life, and he pulled away at the arm Thomas tried to throw around him. He didn't want that right now. Physical contact was not a good way to go at the moment, although he knew he needed it. Alex didn't want to feel like some fragile, pathetic thing and he didn't dare look up to meet the pity he knew he'd find. The tense silence grew until Alex finally stood and announced that he needed to take a walk.

Lafayette was the one to find him a few minutes later, jogging to catch up to him. Alex broke down on him the moment Lafayette wrapped his arms around him. He didn't try to shush him, only held him tighter when the sobs had Alex shaking. "Alex, sweetie, you didn't have to tell them."

Alex didn't reply until most of the tears had stopped falling, "They wound have found out eventually." And dammit, now he had the hiccups. He hated those.

"I know." Lafayette kissed the top of his head and tugged him closer, "Alexander, you are the bravest man I've ever met. And the most stubborn. I don't think anyone else has told Death to fuck off as much as you have." He smiled slightly when he felt Alex snort. "Do you want to walk a little longer?"

When Alex nodded, Lafayette gave him a chance to wipe his face and clean his nose with the handkerchief Lafayette handed him before taking his hand and starting off over the fields with him. Thomas told him about the coughing issue Alex had been having and Lafayette told himself that he wouldn't let Alex stay out for too long. The silence wasn't as painful as it had been inside, and for that, both men were thankful.

 

\--

 

Thomas had scowled at the few in his family that seemed ready to say "I'm sorry, Alex" or look at him with pity. He wouldn't have liked it directed at him and like hell would anyone give Alexander that same expression. When Alexander dodged his arm, Thomas rested his hands in his lap to give Alexander the space he apparently wanted. It hurt, hearing all of the shit that had happened to Alexander. What was worse, was that he was hearing this for the first time too; Thomas didn't want to share Alexander's story with his family, not yet. But he said nothing as Alexander went on about everything. People had left him. People had hurt him. Thomas wished he could have protected Alexander from it all.

When Alexander mumbled that he needed to take a walk, he didn't try to stop him.

"Should you go after him or should I?" Lafayette asked him quietly.

"You two are closer, have been long before he and I met. I think it would be better this time if you went." Although it was killing him.

And that was that.

He dodged the few questions his family directed at him with a shake of his head, "Not right now, please." Thomas needed time to process it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been giving you guys too much fluff.  
> Have my specialty: Pain Pie.


	20. Baby It's Cold Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your favorite snowed in trope.

            Alex couldn't be happier about the week being over. He'd tried to hide himself away as often as possible, locking himself in the library and only coming out to eat or sleep or when Thomas dragged him out to go for a walk. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it up forever but damn if he wouldn't try. Laf couldn't stay long, and Alex knew he felt horrible about leaving him when he was like this, but he needed to go home and see his fiance. Alex understood, even if it didn't make it any easier. He left the estate long enough to see him off to the airport and it was all he could do not to ask Laf to stay. Laf would do it for Alex and Alex couldn't ask him that.

"Call me if you need anything, Alex. Please don't hesitate." Alex had nodded and pressed closer to his friend, thinking the whole while that Laf wouldn't leave.

It was when they made it back to Thomas' home that he collapsed on the couch. The last few days had been exhausting and after pouring his heart out to everyone, all in one go, he didn't want to do anything for a while. Thomas, for his part, was more understanding than Alex thought he would be. He curled up with Alex, brought him tea, and offered quiet support until Alex was ready to talk.

"I didn't want to say anything but...they would have found out eventually." Alex had buried himself under blankets and dragged Thomas up to essentially lay on top of him. Thomas had wrapped an arm around him the best he could and pressed light kisses to Alex's forehead and cheeks.

"We...all had a talk yesterday. I am unsure if it's the right time, but they're more than willing to accept you as part of the family. I know it's kind of early for us, but they really like you. Ma about cried on me because she's already in love with you."  Thomas twirled a lock of hair around his finger before releasing it to press another kiss to Alex's cheek, "They want you around."

Alex didn't know what to think of it, and didn't have a response to it. He needed another day or two to come back down from that. The events were traumatic enough for him the first time, but reliving them long enough just to have word vomit like that, when he wasn't prepared for it, was almost as bad. So he nodded and wrapped his own arms around Thomas, scooting down beneath him to hide his face in Thomas' neck. They lay there like that for a time before Alex decided he wanted to be on top again. Thomas propped himself up and let Alex crawl out from under him before flipping onto his back. Aaand switch. Alex's face was right back into Thomas' neck again, and he sighed contentedly. He'd forgotten how nice it was to curl up with someone like this. He had with his friends, but this felt a little different. Speaking of.

Alex wiggled a little as he tried to pull out his phone, holding it up to take a picture of them. A quick edit and he sent it out to their friends. The texts he got back were variations of "gag" and "ew" and "You're going to be THAT couple, aren't you?".  Alex was pleased with the result. He snorted when he got another one from Washington, wanting to know Thomas' secret for getting Alex to slow down for a while and sleep because the bags under Alex's eyes had faded a little.

He reached over and tossed the phone onto the coffee table before flopping back onto Thomas. "Give me another minute, and I'm dragging you outside again. I need sunlight before I wilt." Alex popped his head up to grin down at Thomas, who had snorted. "What?"

"You? Wanting to go outside? The world must be ending."

Alex flicked him on the nose for that and then dropped his head back down onto Thomas' chest. "I'm sorry about the past few days."

"Don't apologize, Alexander. I understand. You needed time, and we all made sure you got it." Alex felt the arms around him squeeze him tightly and felt some comfort from the action.

They stayed there for a few more minutes before Alex was getting to his feet and yanking Thomas up, "Now. Outside. I want to build a snowman since we didn't get to the other day."

And so they did. Alex had run back inside to grab a few of Thomas' things to clothe the thing and was proud of himself for making a snowman look like a snob. He took a picture of that one too and posted it for their friends. "I like him. What do you think?"

"Are you trying to tell me something by making him look like me?"

"Of course not." Thomas' expression said that he didn't believe him. "What?"

"The purple coat, the tophat, my CANE."

"Yeah, and?"

"Why do I get the feeling that this is supposed to be some subtle insult to my fashion sense?"

Alex gave him a chaste kiss, "I would never."

"Yes, you would. Although, didn't you say you liked me in my coat, and it's a wonder you could keep your hands off of me?" Thomas pulled Alex back before he could escape, "Because I remember you saying something like that?"

"Me? Psh, I wouldn't say something that ridiculous." He didn't bother trying to pull away.

Thomas took a step closer to his captive, smirking as he raised Alex's chin, "So if I were to wear it and nothing else?" He was pleased to see the blush; it was a good sign.

Alex managed to challenge him with, "What if I did it instead?"

"You would certainly be in trouble and likely find yourself against a wall."

"Is that a promise?"

"It could be."

They halted their flirting when Alex felt something wet hit his nose. He blinked and looked up to find more snow falling. Didn't they say there would be heavy snowfall on the news or something around here? "Should we stay out here and freeze or should we go inside and have dinner?"

"I'm thinking dinner and probably a board game or something for a while unless you would rather read again?" Alex had a few other ideas, but he could go along with that plan.

"A game sounds nice."

 

\--

 

When morning finally rolled around, they woke to snow piled high outside and the room colder than it should have been; the heating system was struggling to keep up. When they checked outside, the snow reached a third of the way up the door. Well, they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon unless Thomas felt like pulling something out that could go over the frozen terrain. They promptly shut the door, and Thomas went to make breakfast while Alex went to start a few fires around the house. There was an old cast iron stove in a room near the dining room and Alex happily filled that one up and lit it. Hanging around this thing would heat the room up in no time. They'd probably want out of the room by the time it brought the temperature back up. This would wind up not being the case later, but for now, it would stay this way.

They ate their breakfast in there near the stove and played monopoly. Alex kicked Thomas' ass after seven rounds around the board when Thomas gave up because he couldn't win at this point. Next came battleship, which Thomas won. The game of Life was close to a tie, within a hundred dollars of one another. Alex won two out of three rounds of Candyland, and one of four games of Mousetrap.

Then came the card games. It started out with Black Jack, then War, and so on until they got Poker and started betting their clothes. Because of the cold, they went and tossed on a few more layers--they cheated--and came back. If Thomas lost, Alex got to throw on whatever piece of clothing Thomas decided to give up. It went back and forth, the pair almost winding up on equal ground again, but with whatever the other had been wearing. This was obviously a little uncomfortable for Thomas, Alex being smaller, but Alex at least let him have his pants back.

The fun began when Alex started losing everything until he was in one coat, boxers, socks, and scooting closer to the stove so that he wouldn't freeze to death.

By this point, they'd come and gone from the kitchen to get food, drinks, or whatever. They'd eventually busted out the wine, but Thomas was quick to take it all back after they'd both had two glasses. Like hell would he be drunk for this.

Fun was had by the end of the night, and the pair were back in bed by the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if I'll write the "fun times" these two had off screen. But it definitely involved Alex in the coat and Thomas using "My darling boy" as an endearment.


	21. Come And Sit With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwrapping presents and wrapping things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow soooooo THIS is super late.  
> My brain died. My granny came to stay with us for Christmas and I'm going crazy. Seriously. So my heart and brain were not in it.  
> There's one more chapter left.

Thomas watched Alexander bustle around the kitchen with his mother with open fondness. If you asked Elizabeth, she’d say he had “heart eyes,” and she took pictures. Which, it turned out, she was sending them to her friends, Thomas’ friends, and Alexander’s friends. There was a lot of grinning in her little corner of the kitchen, and it was disturbing to Thomas when he finally noticed. She was plotting something. She had to be.

When their eyes met, Elizabeth flashed him a smirk and nodded in Alexander’s direction. “So, you two uh…you know, got your shit together?”

Thomas groaned and planted his face into his hands, “Please stop.”

Elizabeth pushed herself off of the wall with a slight bounce and dropped onto the stool next to him. After a moment, she rested a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I’m just glad you two are, well, for real this time.”

Thomas turned his eyes away from her to Alexander and smiled softly, “Makes two of us.”

“Are you going to come clean to Ma now?”

“Ah, well, abo—”

“I’ve known since day one.” Oh, apparently she could hear them over her chatting with Alexander. “About damn time. I can’t believe I had to wait on you, two idiots. I wasn’t going to bring it up, and I had hoped you two would just say something, but damn.”

“MA!” She wasn’t supposed to say that; she was supposed to be pure.

“I’m sorry Maman. We were—we were just trying to make you happy.” Alexander somehow managed to look even younger covered in baking ingredients and sheepish; it was adorable.

“I know.” She hugged him tightly, “And I appreciate it, but if you two ever lie to me again, you are sleeping outside.”

“Yes ma'am,” they chorused.

“Good. Now that you two are officially together now, I can give you my blessing, and Alexander, sweetie?” Alexander pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “Welcome to the family.”

Thomas wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to say that this early into their relationship, but the look on his Alexander’s face rid him of any doubts; he didn’t think he’d seen Alexander look so happy, even with all of the bright smiles Thomas had seen in the last three weeks. Thomas could stare at that smile for hours. Alexander started tearing up and closed the distance between himself and Mrs. Jefferson to squeeze her more tightly—and also hide his face so no one could see him crying.

 

\--

 

Alex felt like he could walk on clouds. She wanted him to be part of the family? Why him? Just because he was with Thomas didn’t mean he should be part of the family already. But Mrs. Jefferson didn’t seem to mind and only tried to soothe him as she petted his hair and didn’t let him go. It reminded him of his own mother when he was a kid. Alex may have had a nightmare or something, and she would just hold him and let him cry it out. Mrs. Jefferson wasn’t his mother, but she was a good mother figure.

It was so warm and comforting. And the mere acceptance of him and his role in Thomas’ life was precious. He wondered if he would ever feel something like this again, experience it. It couldn’t be replicated, he decided.

He felt horrible about getting tears and snot on her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to mind. When he finally pulled away, she reached up and started wiping away the remaining tears. Her smile was so kind and genuine, and it made his heart ache terribly. This woman had such a kind soul.

“I still don’t know where your idiot son gets his ruthlessness.” He laughed quietly and rubbed at his own face, “How in the hell did that hellion come from a sweet woman like you? OW!”

Thomas had swatted him on the back of the head, “Excuse you but I am not a hellion. Unlike someone, I don’t pick a fight with everything that moves.”

“And actually, I was a regular protestor when I was your age, and younger. I was always upset about something.” Mrs. Jefferson smirked at Alex, “He does, in fact, get it from me. His father certainly wasn’t the spitfire in the relationship. Looking at you two, I’m not sure who is fierier than the other.”

Thomas and Alex looked at one another and huffed.

“It’s me.” “It’s Alexander.”

“You think I’ve got more spunk?” Aw, Alex thought. Thomas agrees with him on something, and oh shit, that’s so wrong. “Stop agreeing with me.”

“Like I said, always picking a fight.”

“Debate, I’m picking a debate, not a fight.”

“You’re right, I’m wrong, and I’ve never been happier.” Thomas caved. Holy shit he caved on something and no that shouldn’t be, but for now, Alex said nothing. He’d tease him about it later.

 

\--

 

Everyone gathered around Saturday night to open one present early.

The girls got Legos and dinosaurs—Thomas wasn’t kidding—and the adults received various bath products or tools or gag gifts—as was in the case of Alex, who opened up a gift from Elizabeth that had a headband with mistletoe hanging from it. Thomas was the one who thanked her for that one as he slid it onto Alex’s head and started kissing him; they stopped when the teenagers began the ew’s and gagging. Mrs. Jefferson unwrapped the little figurine Alex had painted for her early on in their trip and had Alex panicking when she started to tear up. They wound up hugging one another for a long time after that. Mrs. Jefferson blamed it on being a mom and how it does things to people when their kids make them things. Referring to Alex as “her” kid had him in tears again, and they were back to hugging.

Thomas finally managed to get his boyfriend back and tugged him close to kiss him under the mistletoe headband, snapping a picture of them to send to Lafayette. “He’ll be happy to see that.”

“Thomas, my face is red and splotchy! Don’t send him that one.” Alex tried to snatch it back, but Thomas held his phone out of Alex’s reach until he managed to send it. “He’s going to say that you’re a horrible kisser or something if you have me crying like that.”

“He probably will, but he knows I’m not horrible at it.” If it were even possible, Thomas looked smugger as he leaned back in to peck Alex’s lips. “We practiced when we were young, and I have to say that I learned from the best.”

“Eugh, I don’t want to think about my friend making out with my boyfriend.”

“Jealous?”

“Not a chance.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

“Ar—”

Alex shut him up with a quick kiss, “Who are you with right now? Me. Not him. I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Please get a room.” In tandem, the couple flipped the teenagers off and kissed again.

This was their holiday now.


	22. Future Christmases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the future holds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end everyone! I'm sorry that it has to end but I hope that you enjoy this ending. :0)  
> Yes, it will look very familiar to start out.

Alex didn't think this day could be any stranger, but oh, was he proven wrong.

Number 1: There's a mysterious Starbucks Christmas cup with his favorite white chocolate raspberry mocha waiting for him on his desk when he gets to work this morning. In the past, he would have been suspicious of it, but he knew better now and sent a quick text to Thomas, thanking him.

Number 2: Thomas dropped in shortly after Alex started on his drink and casually asked if he was enjoying it. Only to ruin it by flashing Alex a smirk as he motioned at his lips. "Because you've got a little something there," he'd said. Alex, flustered at being caught in some embarrassing situation (no matter how mild), licked it away quickly. Thomas had merely snorted and turned to leave, without ever asking Alex about whatever he'd walked into his office for. Now, Alex hated to see him go, but he loved to watch him leave. He wouldn’t deny leaning over a little to watch Thomas’ ass as he walked away. Even in that shitty coat Alex claimed to hate, Alex could see what was there and then fill in the rest with his own memory.

Number 3: He heard Thomas humming a Christmas tune in the men's room. Alex wondered if Thomas even knew that Alex was there. When he started humming to “Santa Baby,” Alex knew that Thomas knew he was there.

Number 4: After lunch, he came back to a small box wrapped with shiny red and green paper, completed with a gold bow on top. There wasn’t a tag and Alex was scared to open it. He was more worried about this mystery present than he was of the coffee earlier. He did what he could to ignore it, setting it on a far corner of his desk to worry about later. Curiosity didn’t allow him to wait long and he quickly snatched the box and neatly unwrapped it. Alex was still unused to getting gifts, although Thomas. He wasn’t fond of gifts anyway because he thought that he would owe someone after. Or, that they wanted something from him. And even without his unspoken dislike of gifts, he didn’t get many. So, a small part of him was excited about opening it. Upon opening the box, Alex found a pack of hair elastics in bright colors rather than the standard black he used.

He may or may not have laughed in delight and amusement.

Only to stop when it hit him that this felt familiar; hadn’t he been through this before?

Number 5: When he came back out of his tunnel vision on a project some time later, Alex found yet another cup of coffee, complete with a muffin. Alright. Why the hell was Thomas doing this and what did he want? He poked his head out of his office door and tried to ask his assistant Peggy about it. When did he come in? Did he say what he wanted? Peggy smirked and shrugged, claiming that she didn’t have a clue. Liar.

Number 6: When Thomas eventually came back, it was way past their dinner break; Alex always inadvertently skipped dinner and or lunch because he would get tunnel vision on whatever project he was into and forget to eat. Thomas would pop in and force feed him or pop a straw into Alex’s mouth until he started drinking whatever the hell it was.

Today, Thomas brought him a Jimmy John's sub and chips, along with a bottle of water so that he wouldn't "dehydrate," as he put it. Then, he plopped down into one of the other chairs and started eating his own. This had become their new normal. One of the few times they didn’t argue while at work was during their meals together.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, while they ate, Thomas then presented Alex with a chocolate cupcake that he'd picked up down the street, and then he got up and left the office like nothing had happened.

Now things were beginning to feel VERY familiar, and it was weirding him out.

Number 7—Shots Fired: The weird climax came in later that evening when Thomas stopped by with another bottle of water. Alex finally snapped, asking if he’d missed something because it felt like déjà vu.

"I needed to ask you a favor, and people are easier to persuade when they've had something to eat." If Alex had paid attention, he'd have noticed how nervous Thomas looked. Thomas had shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back; it wasn’t a common sight.

But Alex wasn't paying attention to that. He was too focused on the fact that Thomas was bringing him food as a bribing tool. At this point in the day, Alex was tired, had a headache from staring at his computer without blinking enough for hours on end, and ok yeah, he was thirsty and really wanted that water. Thomas was the perfect boyfriend; he was a pain in Alex’s ass, but he was perfect for him.

Sighing and rubbing at his temples, he finally asked, "What do you want, Thomas? Don’t ask me to sign off on your proposal because I won’t.”

Thomas began to smile and excitedly scurried to Alex’s door, opening it and dragging in a huge present. Alex thought that it looked like it could have been a washing machine box, but they had a new-ish washing machine, so it couldn’t be that. “Dooo you know what today is?”

“Wednesday?” Alex tried.

“Nope. Guess again.”

“November 30th?”

“Alexander, I know you can do better than that. Use your big brain for once.” Thomas pushed the giant present towards Alex’s desk and leaned on it, “This time last year, I was asking you to be my fake boyfriend, remember?”

Alex stopped a moment before nodding “Huh, you’re right. So then what is this for?”

“Sort of an anniversary gift? Just open it, Hamilton.” He moved out of Alex’s way and thus began the next thirty or so minutes of Alex unwrapping a box and opening it to find another wrapped box. The smaller male was getting so angry about the whole thing that it was adorable.

But, finally. Finally. Alex made it to the last box, and it had the younger freezing at the name emblazoned on the top. No way. No. He looked up at Thomas, eyes wide, and was met with a shy but no less sweet smile.

“Are you going to open it?”

“Thomas, is this what I think it is?”

“I don’t know, open it already.”

Alex rolled his eyes but did as he was told, kneeling in the paper and quickly opening the little box to pull out a vending machine toy ball that had a ring in it.

Thomas knelt in front of him, gently taking the small ball out of Alex's hands to remove the ring. "So, is this okay?"

"Are you asking me to be your fake husband?" Alex asked, holding his hand out to let Thomas slide the ring on.

"Yes, and then in two weeks, I'm going to ask you to be my real husband. Is that okay with you?" Thomas put the ring on Alex's finger and then raised his hand to kiss Alex's hand. "If not, then I can always ask another time but--"

"Of course I'm okay with it!" Alex launched himself at Thomas, laughing and tackling him into the pile of open boxes and wrapping paper. "I will be more than happy to be your fake husband for a little while."

The pair laughed, and Thomas rolled them over to hover above Alex, "I can't wait until I can take you shopping for a real ring."

"So I don't get to keep this toy ring that's about two sizes too small?" Alex teased, tugging him down to kiss him again. He couldn't stop smiling. "'Cause I'm perfectly okay with this little thing."

"You can keep it, but I am getting you a proper ring, dammit."

"You just want to see me draped in gold, Thomas."

"Damn straight." They continued to kiss and smile like idiots for a few more minutes before Thomas spoke up, nervous again. "So, is this a yes?"

He sat up and pushed Thomas onto his back before crawling up, "Yes, Thomas, that's a yes."

"So do you like me like me? Or do you only like me? Like, is this a like-like thing or...?" Alex started laughing and even when Thomas pouted, he didn't stop, but he did lean down to kiss the grumpy expression away.

"I think I most certainly like-like you."

"Good, because this would have been awkward otherwise."

"Asshole."

"Yes, but I'm your asshole."

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, commenting, and the kudos! You guys have been great and I appreciate you. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at ixhadbadxdays

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Alexander Hamilton Needs a Break](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844133) by [lilapollomoved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilapollomoved/pseuds/lilapollomoved)




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